Long Time No Post...

This poor blog has been languishing, so much so that I even failed to marked its 10th anniversary back on October 12.  I gave it to myself as a birthday present a decade ago.  Although I have been largely absent the last couple of months I am still grateful for all the remarkable people I've had a chance to meet as a result and for the countless ideas I've been exposed to and creative opportunities It has brought.

Now, what has been keeping me so insanely busy?  the start of the school year has been horrendous.  Basically, I walked in the first day of school to find the 10,000 volume library had been packed up over the summer and unceremoniously dumped on the stage for me to put in order....with no help.  Oh, and the stage still had all the curricular materials from two past reading programs on it as well.  And it was filthy.  And my desk had been thrown away.  And my book carts had been given away.  My computer and printer were missing.  And the locked closet of my book repair supplies had been pillaged.  I was, to understate it in the most extreme way, not pleased.  To put it bluntly, I told the principal in so many words that this was the third library in two years I was told to reassemble from scratch by myself and to date this was the biggest damn clusterfuck I had been handed yet, so congratulations on attaining that distinction.  Yes, I actually looked him in the eye and said those words.  There were other words after that wherein I went on the detail the level of clusterfuckedness and what was necessary to uncluster the massive fuckedness of the situation.  This all fell on deaf ears.  It was a time of unparalleled joy and delight if you enjoy being subjected to the whims of incompetent leadership. 

Since that time I have put to order the utter chaos that was over 200 boxes of books plus shelves.  I tracked down and reclaimed my carts, computer, and printer.  In order to get through the weeks of heavy lifting I took my yoga mat to school.  I lifted boxes and books until my back said enough for one day then I rolled out my mat and did yoga until it felt better and the homicidal urges passed....since zero assistance in the process was provided.

We have resumed circulation which means I finally have the chance to enjoy the kids again and all the hilarious conversations they provide.  Here then are some of the early conversations this year, which have amused me and reminded me why exactly I endure the stupidity of this school district.

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2nd grader: Miz Lime, are you gonna dye your hair?
Me: Nope, I like it the way it is.

2nd grader: Did you dye it to get it all grey and white?
Me:(laughing) No, I let time do it for me.
2nd grader: That's a lot of work?
Me: Indeed it is.

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When checking out books I ask for a student's last name so I can find them in the system. For kindergarteners it's a crapshoot as to whether or not they know their last name. When one wee one told me her first name I asked, "what is your last name?" She stared at me blankly so I rephrased my question, " What comes after Agatha*?" She brightened and announced proudly, "Sleepyhead!"

And then there was the boy who answered my question of what comes after Hobart* with, "Hey, white boy."

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Fridays with kindergarten are telling...

Conversation #1

Librarian: What month is it?
Kindergartener: TUESDAY!!!

Sweet mother of Bill Murray, if it were Tuesday all month I would drive a truck with a groundhog in it over a cliff!

Conversation #2

Girl comes up to my desk with no book. I ask where her book is and the librarian says no books for her because she was throwing them.
Me: uh-oh, was that a good choice?
Her: (shrugging)
Me: Are you learning to make good choices in kindergarten?
Her: (with great sincerity) Nooooo....
Me:(stifling giggles) You're not?
Her: No
Me: Do you think you will be able to learn to make good choices?
Her: (enthusiastically) Yes!
Me: Oh good! What's one good choice you think you could learn to make?
Her: 7? 8?
Me: (confused puppy head cock)


Conversation #3

Boy comes to me crying that someone hurt his feelings.
Me: what did he say that hurt your feelings?
Him: He said I was stupid.
Me: Well I can understand that doesn't feel good. Let me ask you, do YOU think you are stupid?
Him: (shaking head no)
Me: Do you think you are a smart boy?
Him: (nodding yes)
Me: Good. I think you're a smart boy too. (He smiles) Do you know what smart boys do?
Him: No
Me: They remember that they are smart and let comments about being stupid fly away from them. Do you think you can do that, smart boy?
Him: (big grin) Yes!

Conversation #4

Me:(as little dude steps up to check his book out) What's your name, friend?
Him:(using his fingers to pinch his mouth into fish lips) mmffmm fffmmmp...
Me: (chuckling) Can we try that again without fish lips?
Him: (still pinching and now shaking head no)
Me:(mumbling as I'm making fish lips) Can you understand ME now?
Him:(grinning ear to ear and nodding emphatically)
Me: (laughing because OF COURSE this backfired ) Well, fish can't have library books because they get the books all wet.
Kid behind fish lips boy: His name is Charlie!*

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And then there are the parents...

I had a young teacher tell me a student's parents inform her she needs to be patient with their kid because...wait for it......they aren't.
Idiots: holding teachers to higher expectations of self-control than they hold themselves.

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If you want to feel like a rock star push a cart full of books into kindergarten.
If you want to feel like a priest hand out the little paper positive behavior reward to 1st grade. As they sat along the wall while I handed them out a few kids reverentially placed one hand palm up inside the other as if they were ready to receive Eucharist while I went down the line . I thought a couple would cross themselves.

Is library a religious experience? I think so and I try to make it a sanctuary. Does that make me the Priestess of the Library?

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I love it when the tough guys love books.

Tough guy Fifth grader: Miz Lime, where's the poetry books?
Me: These three shelves.

Friend of tough guy: Where's the good books, Miz Lime?
Me:(opening my mouth to speak my standard response)
Tough guy: (totally stealing my line) Man, they're ALL good books in here!
Me: Amen, brother! You beat me to it. Rock on!

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And there's always the challenge of figuring out which book a kid wants...

2nd grader: Can I have the book with the little white guy? My classmate had it last time.
Me: Tell me more about the book so I can figure out which one you mean.
Him: He has yellow on him and goes up to the sky.

He wanted......


The Lorax by Dr. Seuss.  Proud to say I nailed it.

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And finally, there was the administrator who studied the posters I put up on the backs of the bookshelves facing out into the gym from the stagebrary (that's what I call it now that it's located on the stage at one end of the gymnasium...because OF COURSE that's where the library belongs.

Her: (with great irritation) Who put up those posters?
Me: (with pride) I did!
Her: (chagrined) Oh.

*names changed to protect student privacy

Overheard in the Library

3rd grade girl: Where are the girly girl books?
Me: What exactly do you mean by that? Can you explain more clearly what you are looking for?
Her: (looking at me as if I just fell to Earth from Mars) You know the books girls would like...
Me: Well, I'm a girl and I like motorcycles. Are you looking for books about motorcycles?
Her:(completely certain of my dullness in comprehension) Uh, no!
Me: Ok, then tell me what you like.
Her: (wheels are spinning...no response is forthcoming)
Me: (smiling)How about you think about it while you keep looking.

She trots off and returns a moment later to declare, "Princesses! Do you have books about princesses?"
Me: I sure do. Fairy tales or biographies?
Her: Fairy tales.
Me: Now we're getting somewhere!
Library Girl may have other superpowers but she doesn't pretend to read minds.That way she has a chance to challenge them to work a little.

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Library related conversation with my daughter:
Me: So do you want to know what the least frequently checked out books in my library are?
C: I can't even guess.

Me: Presidential biographies. Forty-seven of the bottom 50 titles are presidential biographies.
C: That's a shame. I can recall having a fascination with Taft when I was a kid.

That there is evidence of a nerd begetting a nerd.

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Things you don't expect to say in the library: Please stop comparing your bellies and choose a book.

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And then there are the library questions which momentarily make you take pause.
An articulate, well-mannered 2nd grader walked into the library and inquired with all seriousness, "Mrs. Lime, could you please tell me where the pink beaver book is?"
Me: (wheels spinning wildly as I try to shift into school appropriate mode rather than wildly inappropriate double entendre mode and actually generate an answer) *blink...blink...........blink blink* Uummm.....

Him: (with utter propriety and impeccable diction) It's the book where he tries on lots of clothes.
Me:(delighted for that piece of clarifying information as it immediately fires the correct synapses) Ooooh! You mean Naked Mole Rat Gets Dressed?
Him: (still with great composure yet gratitude that we have communicated effectively) Yes, that's exactly the book. Do you have it?
Me: Yes, friend we do. It's my very favorite Mo Willems book. It's right here.
Him: Thank you so much, Mrs. Lime. You have a nice afternoon.
Me: (smiling) Thank you. I already have, friend. I hope you do as well. Enjoy your book!

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I had to close the section where Disney books are found because of the extreme level of destruction which has been occurring there repeatedly and the reminders of library etiquette going unheeded. The young patron who told me she wants more Disney books in the library lamented that she couldn't choose anything because there were no other good books. I directed her to 398.2 in non-fiction, three whole shelves of folklore and fairytales as opposed to half a shelf of Disney in the picture book section. Her eyes boggled.

 

And I am left to consider, where is my own vision so narrow I cannot see a new world of joyous wonder?

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It's standardized testing season in our great commonwealth. In the interest of formulating questions relevant to the real world here's one for all you kids.

If Miz Lime spends $50 a week for gas to get to and from her job and she just paid more than a week's pay to fix the vandalism done to her car while at work (because the cost came in under her deductible amount) and the district says she's SOL for being reimbursed because she wasn't in a school parking lot (because said school doesn't even have a lot, thus necessitating parking on the street) how much money could she have saved by just not going to work during testing week (when she can't see classes anyway because they take over the library for testing) and merely being docked pay once she exceeds her 4 remaining sick days? Generate an equation to express your answer.

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Her: I forgot my book, can I bring it tomorrow?
Me: Well, tomorrow I am at my other school.
Her: You have TWO schools you have to go to?
Me: Yes.
Her: What's your other school?
Me: Warren G. Harding
Her: Warren G. Harding?? That's another big school! Isn't that a lot of pressure?
Me: (smiling) Sometimes, it is. Yes.
Her: Man, That's just a lot.
The kid gets it, more than the school board or superintendent. There is hope

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Bless the poor, toothless kindergarteners and first graders. It drives me nuts when at the end of the school year they still don't know their own last name but when they know it and the lack of teeth makes it impossible for them to pronounce it I feel great pity.

Thowweth. My name is Thowweth.

Feel free to guess.

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Crap that makes Library Girl want to open a can of whoop ass:
When I ask a student who just stepped OVER a book if he saw that book on the floor and he says no while looking at it. Then I ask if he sees it now and he nods. Next question from me is, "Well, what would be a wise choice when you see a book on the floor?" Student response is to walk away.
I compelled the student in question to demonstrate the wise choice. I did so calmly, without violence or profanity. I love elementary aged kids but some days making sure my edit button works and I don't hurl a heavy reference work at anyone is challenging.

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Another young man informed me he didn't want a book.  Said student cried bitterly the week before when I didn't allow him to check a book out due to egregious misbehavior.  I asked if the earlier tears had been crocodile tears.  He was confused as to what that meant so I explained the idiom. He insisted they were sincere but he didn't want a book this week because the one he liked wasn't in.  I guaranteed he could find one he liked among the 10,000 volumes if he looked.  He was skeptical.  I asked what he liked.  He said animals.  I put a book about crocodiles in his hands.  He regarded it and declared it sufficiently interesting.  Next week we may tackle sarcasm.

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Finally, a simple but satisfying exchange with a kindergartener after she checked out her book.

Her: (a little sheepishly)  I can't read this book but I reeeally like the pictures.
Me: That's okay.  Sometimes the pictures help us figure out what is happening in the story and the artist made them hoping you would enjoy them.  I am a grown up but I still like to look at picture books because some of them have such beautiful art in them.  If you want to read though, I bet you can find some of your sight words in the story.
Her: (excitedly) You sure are right about the pictures!  Look at this one!  It's sooooo pretty!
Me: (smiling) It really is.

She continues paging through the book reverently regarding the artwork then discovers a page with a large rip.

Her: (in dismay) Oh, Miz Lime, someone didn't take care of this great book!

And another book and art lover is born, may her tribe increase.

Oh the Irony

This week is National Library Week.  I live in the state which brought you the United States' first free public library.  I also live in a state which schedules all the statewide standardized testing for 3 weeks in April.  Wanna take a wild guess as to when all that begins?  Yep, today.  Wanna guess where the testing takes place in my schools?  Yep, the library.  Therefore, during National Library Week we can't have any book circulation.  It's enough to make a library lady either cry or rampage.  In order to soothe myself I bring you some interesting happenings in the library lately.

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The kindergarteners get very excited when I come to pick them up.  One little guy, who is enthusiasm embodied, shouted upon seeing me, "It's Library Girl!!!"  I thought it made me sound like a superhero so I am adopting it as my new moniker. Faster than an OPAC! Able to leap tall stacks of books in a single bound. She stands for facts, information, and the literary way!  It's a teacher, it's a book lover, it's Library Girl! 

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A student was dawdling in choosing a book after his teacher had given the countdown for finishing. He grabbed a book off the shelf and moseyed to my desk.  As he arrived he announced, "I'll take this book,  It's sucky, but I'll take it." Nope, we have 10,000 books here there is no reason for you to grab one you think is sucky.  Go find one you actually want.  He said he couldn't find one. I asked what he liked.  He told me.  I stuck a book in his hand.  He looked at it and said, "This doesn't look like it sucks."  Good, try to enjoy it.  Maybe he needs to go spend some time with the kindergarteners.

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I have long had a big soft spot for six year olds in glasses.  I also collect Caldecott Award winning books. When a glasses sporting six year old comes to the library and asks on every visit if he can have a "reward" book* I am a complete goner.

*The first week I said I wasn't sure what he meant by "reward book" and asked if he could explain more about it.  He drew circles in the air and declared, "They have gold and silver circles on the covers!"  It was at the end of a  long day.  His little grin when I handed him Officer Buckle and Gloria totally made up for his one classmate who drove me nuts.

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One  little girl came up clutching a Disney book and begging, "Please, Miz Lime, can you order lots more Disney books?  They're my favorites!!!"  I told her that was a great idea and she ought to talk to the principal about it.  Bewildered, she asked why.  I explained that is because the principal decides how much money the library gets for ordering new books each year...and that it's been five years since our library had new books ordered.

Lime...disseminating information and fomenting unrest among primary students since 2012.

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At the same library we have a tile floor.  Judging by how long certain spills have remained untouched, the floor has not been mopped all year.  Could I do it?  Yes, but I spent a lot of time cleaning up after adults last year.  I've asked repeatedly for people to clean up after themselves. I've been told the custodial staff is responsible.  My take home pay for a full-tome job running two libraries is less than what my kid earns at a part time job serving burritos.  I expend a lot of energy just keeping 22, 000 books in order.  I figure if the floor looks hideous enough maybe someone will finally be compelled to do is or her job. That has proved to be unsound logic.  I am now considering finding a kid with the belly bug and having him strategically barf in the library to get the floor mopped.

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I have a fifth grader who has asked me for books on quantum mechanics and the works of Shakespeare.  She has been so understanding when I have told her we have nothing like that.  I so wish I could put something in her hands that she wants but I am encouraged that she tells me she gets to the public library where she can find these things.

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One student returned a badly damaged book.  In such cases I assign the fine after speaking with the student to see if there is a plausible story or any sense of responsibility or contrition.  This student seemed to have both so I showed her that the cost of the book, which I could not repair was $18 and I told her I would only fine her $5.  We are a very poverty stricken district.  So few fines come in....ever.  She sat down, thought a moment, and asked if she could still check out a new book.  I reminder her that all books and fines have to be taken care of before new books can be selected. 

Her: Well, my parents were going to focus on buying me stuff on Friday so I don't think they will be able to send the money in.
Me: Perhaps you could suggest they buy you $5 less "stuff" and send it in for the fine.  Better yet, you could go home and ask them for some chores to do to earn the money to pay for the book.
Her: (indignantly) I don't like chores!
Me: (arching a single eyebrow and questioning my earlier sense of mercy) No one likes chores but they are a responsibility...just like that book you didn't take good care of.

It was a more professional response than what I wanted to say which was, "Then it sucks to be you."

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I may be Library Girl but it takes more than Super Human strength not to burst out laughing when a first grader checks out a book about outer space and announces, "YOOOOOOUUR-anus is an AWESOME planet!"

Because it's March 31

I can't let a month slip by without a single post.  I think the blog would collapse into a black hole.

So what have I been doing?  Well, I've begun teaching yoga classes, three so far.  The first was canceled due to snow.  And tonight, on the last day of March, it was canceled again...due to snow.  I am more unhappy about the snow on March 31 than the cancellation...though that isn't thrilling me, I'd rather be safe. Given that I watched a car stall out trying to get up our hill I think the cancellation was wise.

So, the happy making stuff is we have reclaimed the extra bedroom.  Diana moved out back in August but Calypso claimed that room for a period of time until we could paint her room.  We had stripped the wall paper only about a decade ago.  One must not rush into such things as painting walls.  Anyway, we finally painted her room so she moved back into it and we reclaimed the last bedroom.

Mr. Lime declared an intended use for it and I may have mentioned I thought it would be nice to have dedicated yoga space because nothing harshes a good yoga vibe like having someone try to step over you while in lizard pose, or stoop under you to ask a question while in downward facing dog pose.  He said, as long as I moved all the books out of the den and into this room I could also use it for yoga space.  so that also meant I'd finally get all my books out of boxes and back on shelves where they belong.  Win/win!  Although it was going to require a hard weeding of the book collection to fit them into the new space.  This was also a job I wanted to happen so painful as it was I was glad for the motivation to get it done.  Here are the results with one shelf yet to be built and filled on the floor.  I nearly halved the collection.  I have since gone out and purchased six more books but no one should be stunned by this.






I began referring to the room as the yogabrary.  It made me very happy.  I had lots of space to move.  No one was walking in on me or over me or around me.  My books we out of boxes.  All was well.  Then I came home after a particularly aggravating day and had more happy making when I discovered this sign on the door....








 ....which flips to this when I want to be alone.  Mr. Lime gets it.  One day I was so stressed several of his jokes went right over my head.  He patted me on the hand and said, "It's ok dear, go breathe and do your yoga stuff." 









So I did...

 And then I did some more...

...and more...



















It was very relaxing.

I am a happy Lime.

Overheard in (or regarding) the Library

It's a strange soundtrack to which I work. Outside one door is a beginner clarinetist honking and squeaking through Mary Had a Little Lamb. Outside the other door kindergarteners are learning letter sounds and chanting..t-t-t-t-t-t...Inside the library, the heaters that were just turned on this morning are clanging along.

It's got an interesting beat, a little challenging to dance to. I give it a 47.
 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   5th grader comes into the library and upon checking out tells me he was stressed and ready to pull his hair out deciding on a book. Me: Friend, just relax. Picking a book should be relaxing. Him: I get stressed over everything. Me: Take a deep breath. Just breathe. Him: I tried that over 300 times. It doesn't work. Me: Well, stop breathing. Let me know how that works out for ya.

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2nd grade quote of the day: Him: I wish this was a real library. Me: It is. Him: But everyone talks too loud. I love all the kids but the ones who crave the sanctuary get me every time.

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Oh the self-control I exhibit...When a student commented on the leather jacket draped over my chair I managed not to snarl and say, "It's made from the hide of kids who damage or never return library books."

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Then there's a little game I like to call "values clarification." You're in a school of 700 or so 5-10 yr olds plus staff. You may have 2 or 3 of the following and you may rotate which items you have but you may never have all 4 at the same time: functional plumbing, hand soap, paper towels, and toilet paper. Choose wisely...

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Finally, Isaac came to me asking for $50 to buy a new box of contact lenses.  I asked what happened to his money.  He said he had enough but didn't want to spend it.  Incredulous, I asked how much he brings home a week (from two part time jobs).  He quoted a figure and I countered letting him know I bring home less than half of that.  He said that was impossible.  I pulled out a pay stub.  Then he asked why on earth I still work there.

I Don't Know Where This Post is Going but It Will Get There

Can you believe once upon a time and for several years I posted five times a week? My how times change.  Back on October 12, Hugh Jackman and I shared a birthday and this blog turned 9 years old.  I certainly never imagined I'd be doing this nine years later and although the pace of my output has slowed considerably I don't want to stop completely.  This forum has provided me with people whose friendships have sustained me through some of my darkest days and who have rejoiced with me in great triumphs.  I like to think I have reciprocated that to some folks as well.  I am grateful, so very grateful for the friends who have become like family and the little community we've been able to form.

In other files marked "the times they are a changin'" I offer two examples of educational anachronisms.  This week  in one of my libraries a little boy ran to my desk carrying a book so he could alert me to the "bad word" contained in the title.  The book in question was Dick and Jane: a Christmas Story.  I had to explain that it was a nickname for Richard that has fallen out of favor. 

Later, a fourth grade class came in with their brand new math workbooks for a new curriculum aligned with the mandated Common Core standards.  As a table full of students hunched over their workbooks crunching numbers I happened to notice the two pages contained several word problems using a stamp collection as the main reference point from which to derive information.  Let me repeat that.  A stamp collection.  A fourth grade class.  A poverty-stricken, inner city school.  In the year 2014. Cuz, yo, that's how we roll in da hood.....with our postage stamp collections.  Bitches be all up in my face wantin' a British Guiana 1c magenta. 

Sweet mother of irrelevancy, if we have to stop a math lesson to explain what the hell a postage stamp is and why on earth someone would have an entire collection of them because the kids are all giving that cocked head, confused puppy look I think we've derailed ourselves a bit here.  Could we perhaps enter the 21st century and provide appropriate examples of things the kids might actually come in contact with so they can grasp how math affects their daily lives?  If you want to introduce stamp collecting as a concept just say so and I will come up with a lesson integrating vocabulary, geography, history, art, technology and even math.  Furthermore, the kids will be on the edges of their seats and learn something that may actually spark their imagination and intellect because it will be cohesive rather than random.  This?  This is just plain stupid.

We've also had all sorts of automotive traumas.  In the last three months each of my three children has had an accident.  Thank God, no one was injured.  That's the most important thing.  The cars have fared less well.  Two were totaled, one sustained minor damage.  Calypso's car has had transmission problem and is back on the shop for more of the same. Mr. Lime's Clampett-mobile style truck had the brakes go and tries to slowly poison the driver with carbon monoxide unless the window is cracked open.  It's now in the shop for a new muffler and brakes.  I'm just wondering which automotive gods I have pissed off and if an offering of motor oil and Turtle Wax will help appease them.  Then again, one could say a Higher Power has had my back since the people I love most have been spared injury.

In happy news, I've been able to teach my series of free community yoga classes as practice of my new skills. Did I mention I was the first among my large class of teacher trainees to have to teach the public?  How about that it was before we'd had the classes on sequencing or providing physical assistance to students?  It was nerve-wracking to prepare for but fun to do once I was there.  My mantra for nerves was, "It ain't cancer.  It's yoga."  Very zen, huh?  I'm sure the ancient gurus chanted that in Sanskrit or Tibetan.  I was so encouraged by the two teachers who came to my classes, as well as my fellow trainees.  And then there were the two ladies who were brand new to yoga and who told me they were hooked immediately because of the message that there is no competition and that they listen to their own bodies whether what they do looks like the teacher or the person on the mat next to them or not.  I was THRILLED that they "got it" and were empowered by that.

So here I am nine years out, working in two urban schools running libraries, working toward being certified as a yoga instructor.  I've been through a child's serious illness, my own serious illness, five surgeries, and more cars than I care to count.  My three children who were in elementary school and junior high when I began this blog are all graduated from high school and on to the next steps of their lives.  One is in Georgia, one in a local institute of higher learning, and one is preparing to go to Haiti next month in preparation for a later 1-3 month internship there.  Mr. Lime is counting the years to retirement and I am embarking on new adventures within new communities of friends.

Flexibility

First, an update on the aftermath of last week's post.

After being told I'd have to do "library on a cart" I spent a considerable amount of time gathering scholarly articles correlating library access to various measures of student achievement so I could fortify my arguments for the students having access to the full library collection, not just the couple hundred books I could fit on a cart and drag around the school.  So as to not overstress the admins I highlighted key passages in the several dozen pages I printed out.  Folks were unswayed though one noted I had come prepared, to which I replied, "I work in a library.  I know how to do research."

However, I am glad to report an acceptable compromise was reached.  Our school is bursting at the seams.  I had to give up some geography in the library to accommodate another class being moved up there.  I was able to convince the principal that library on a cart  is such a piss poor excuse for library service that we cannot justify it.  He offered the suggestion of only having part of the class come to the library at a time since an entire class can no longer fit in the remaining space.  I agreed because the most important thing is that the kids have access to the full collection.  We've already lost librarians and library instruction.  We cannot afford to lose access to the collection.  So a certain degree of flexibility from both the principal and from me has allowed for some semblance of a solution.  It's not optimal or even desirable but it's preferable to library on a cart.

In other news, I spent this weekend of yoga teacher training learning how to safely give hands on assists to deepen stretches....so flexibility can be increased.

Bending one classmate in half.

Asking another classmate to walk all over me.



















I am learning flexibility in all sorts of contexts but I'd  still like to tell the people decimating urban public schools and their libraries to get bent.

Disheartened

I'd like to open by asking you what exactly you think would posses a person with a B.S. Ed. and who holds state certifications in Special Education and as a Library Assistant to put 80 miles a day on her car to earn $8.41/hr in order to provide book circulation to two urban elementary schools with a combined collection of 21,000 books and a combined population of roughly 1600 students and 75 teachers?  Allow me to remind you this person performs the job alone.  There is no M.L.S. credentialed librarian.  The folks with advanced degrees were furloughed so those of us hired as "assistants" are doing this job alone....in two schools.

God knows I could find a Special Ed job tomorrow and be paid many times more than what I am currently paid so we can assume it's not the generous compensation for this job.  The thing is, I burned out on the bureaucracy with that job.  I love the kids who struggle for one reason or another.  I love empowering them and helping them find ways to succeed.  I just can't cope with the exhausting amount of legal documentation.  It saps the energy that the kids need in order for me to be effective with them.

I am not enamored of long commutes and even less so since our family has had multiple major automotive issues in the last two months.  I certainly don't enjoy filling my tank two or more times a week and honestly, my pay doesn't really help me do so.  The travel route is congested with a great many aggressive drivers and several construction sites.  Neither of those things help endear the drive to me.

At my two schools I lack basic necessities for my job such as an adult-sized desk and a chair with doesn't collapse under me every time I sit in it.  I've become very adept at the art of the careful landing.  I also sit in a moldy basement in one of the schools.  Hey, who needs air-quality?  What an unnecessary luxury.  Oh right, the air is fine according to all reports (how many palms were greased for that and how many salaries could have been paid instead?) only it's not.

Of course, a case could be made for insanity being the motivation.  These conditions are crazy-making.  It also unnerves my husband on a daily basis that I drive as far as I do to park my car in less than safe neighborhoods to work for so little.  My sanity certainly has been questioned long enough and in multiple contexts by many people so there may be sufficient evidence to convict on that charge.

I submit the main motivation is a soul-deep concern for vulnerable kids and for being involved in their educational process in a way which doesn't suck the life out of me, a desire to support a bone-weary faculty in their daily efforts, and an abiding love and appreciation for the power of books.  There's also the satisfaction that comes from bringing order out of chaos, being able to provide efficient systems for accessing literature and information, and making both students and faculty aware of resources they never knew existed.  Watching a child's eyes light up over something which engages his imagination or answers her questions gives me joy.  Seeing a teacher breathe a sigh of relief over being saved a little time in searching for materials to use in augmenting a lesson gives me a little more energy to continue serving.

I don't see myself as a great savior but I do believe I provide an important service and provide it well.  I believe the context in which I serve is critically important as I am serving students who begin life with too many strikes against them already.  The students in my two schools are the poorest in the city.  They come from homes full of violence, substance abuse, and transience.  They come from homes with a lack of stability, food, and books.  That's not to say every home represented is like this but certainly the demographics indicate there is a disproportionate degree of these attributes.  There will never be a lack of people willing to work in comfortable suburban schools.  It's important to attract capable, hard-working people to the worst situations though.  I am capable and if showing up to do my job well in the midst of dealing with cancer doesn't demonstrate a work ethic, I don't know what does.

Our schools spend a great deal of time and money providing free meals, health clinics, food pantries, clothing closets, after school activities, and other services.  These are important and can make a big difference.  I am in no way suggesting these services cease.  I will say we  must not forget our primary job is to EDUCATE children.  I am deeply concerned that the lack of value placed on our libraries indicates we have forgotten that responsibility.

We have already furloughed the librarians so our students are not receiving instruction as to how to properly use a library and access its treasures or literature and information, nor how to conduct effective online searches for digital information.  We have completely failed them in providing the tools needed for them to engage in self-directed learning in the most expansive resource, the library.  Ray Bradbury said he could not afford to go to college so he went to the library and "graduated" at age 27 after he had read countless volumes.  Our students, who may never be able to dream of affording higher education, will not have a concept that they have the power to educate themselves.  Hell, they probably won't even find out who Ray Bradbury is or have the chance to consider his works for that matter.

Still, I strive because it matters deeply for our students.  When I interviewed for this job I said aside from providing excellent service I wanted to cultivate the library as a safe place.  I am given 20 minutes every other week per class (which is pathetic to begin with) to allow them a sense of this haven, this sacred space for knowledge and imagination.  It's a challenge but one I believe I have risen to.  I cannot contractually provide formal instruction but I can take 20 minutes and do everything in my power to convey that this is a place for hope of finding solace or building a better future....until you evict the students and me from this place.

I am told I am now to "do library on a cart."  I am to distill a 10,000 volume library to a cart which holds fewer books than the average teacher's classroom library, push it from room to room, and call it library service for 900 students and 30-40 faculty.  We've already abandoned library instruction.  If you want me to abandon proper circulation service then you are more insane than I am.  This is a horrendous failure of educational leadership.  If you want library on a cart stop pretending it matters at all.  Delete the entire collection from the catalog, distribute the books to the students and teachers, and take the shelves apart.  I have no interest in perpetrating the fraud of saying library services are provided to our neediest children under such conditions.

What a Difference a Year Makes

No, I haven't fallen off the face of the Earth of even a zipline.  It's been a wild ride the last couple of weeks closing up two libraries and having a yoga teacher training weekend.

Today, however, is noteworthy.  A year ago today I was having a cancer riddled thyroid removed from my body after several months of medical testing and arguing with incompetent doctors before finding some excellent ones.  All this began shortly after I started my then new job as a Library Paraprofessional.  It was a job in which I was unclear about what latitude I did or didn't have.  I was afraid to overstep my boundaries.  I was also trying to keep my head above water. I spent the two weeks before surgery on medical leave from my job so I didn't have to sit in a moldy basement at one school while I was trying to prepare mentally and physically for surgery. Those two weeks were spent at home in the embrace of my family and attending as many yoga classes as I could handle, roughly ten classes in two weeks, in order to keep myself calm.

It worked.  I went into surgery physically strong and mentally calm.  I didn't panic until about five or ten minutes before they came for me to give me the pre-surgical sedative.  The sedative took care of the panic.  As soon as I was awake in recovery I began doing deep yogic breathing to begin helping my body get rid of the anesthesia since I knew the respiratory therapists would be telling me to do that anyway.  Apparently, what I considered mindful breathing in a still groggy state, looked labored to the recovery nurses.  They asked if I was having trouble.  When I told them what I was doing they commended me.  Later when I used my foot to pull the bedside table nearer so I could help myself to ice chips they scolded me with the warning that too much too quickly would make me vomit.

The last two weeks of this school year were spent exercising the full latitude of my authority in the library.  In one I was well caught up with the mundane aspects of shelving and repairs and record keeping.  I rewarded myself by reading to the classes with the best library usage of the year in between processing new books.  It's something I enjoy doing a great deal but it's not part of the scope of my job description or even something I ever have time for anyway.  It was a lot of fun to hold the kids' attention and even that of the teachers who opted to take some time away from pressing duties.  Even their faces expressed rapt attention and each of them expressed surprise at how I engrossed their students.  Yes, I can do more than just shelve books.

In my other school it was a flurry of activity trying to catch up with things left undone all year.  I had new books to finish processing and repairs of old books. I also did a major weeding (nearly 500) of the picture books, deleting them from the catalog and removing identifying tags and marks. Then I shifted all those which remained to make room for new subsections for holiday books and books for beginning readers so it's easier for those kids to find something they are able to read independently.  That also meant updating the catalog as to a new subsection and the books located therein.  Oh, yeah, and I inventoried nearly 11,000 books.  Nothing like setting the bar ridiculously high but I really wanted to properly whip this library into shape because it's been so neglected for so long, like years before I arrived kind of neglect.  Thanks to Calypso who came into work for one day and my dear friend and fellow Para, Big Mama, I was able to accomplish almost everything.  I left the repairs for next year and I have to make new shelf labels after having shifted roughly 5000 books.  Otherwise, I finished it all and accounted for all but about 30 books in inventory.  I could not have done so without Calypso and Big Mama, who even dragged a substitute teacher in to help one day as well.  Big Mama is a compelling person.

In looking back over the last year, there's been a lot of change.  A cancer has been excised from me literally.  I think in some ways one has been removed figuratively, though treatment for that is ongoing.  Although one could argue I am a risk taker as evidenced by incidents involving ziplines, I never was in the work world.  This year I have grown in confidence about what I have to offer and I have struck out in an unusual new direction of signing up for teacher training in yoga.  I've also decided to actively look for new employment elsewhere this summer, which is part of why I worked so hard at one library.  I want to turn it over in the best possible shape.  A year or two ago I doubted my professional skills and I NEVER would have considered I could possibly teach anything that could be remotely considered athletic.  I've asked for references from people I respect and they have responded with great encouragement.  I have had two trainings in the yoga program and I have received wonderful feedback for my participation there as well.  Oh, and I even was bold enough to actually SELL some of my tie dye creations instead of giving them away.

It's been quite a year, one with lots of growth...the kind indicative of life rather than the kind leading to death.

Do You Like Your Job?

After enduring the latest major maladjustment to keep the library from functioning as a library and not being informed until moments before the very last day of book selection that I'd not have use of the library for half the day, thus preventing five classes of students from choosing books, I became angry.  In the next 20 minutes I contacted ten teachers, and turned my schedule inside out including double booking four classes with specific instructions as to how to make this work so students and teachers could check out the books they need both for pleasure reading and for research projects.  I was still fuming when the usurper of the library appeared just as I finished settling the schedule, which had already been rearranged earlier in the week to accommodate testing in the library.  Said usurper felt the need to poke at me in my ire and finally dared to ask me, "Do you like your job?"  I was too angry to say the following.

Do I like my job?
Yes, I like helping students find books they will enjoy.  I like making life easier for the teachers by finding materials they can use in their classroom instruction.  I even like the boring parts like shelving and covering new materials with the crinkly plastic jacket covers.

Do I like my job?
Yes, I like teaching the kids the word bibliophile when I tell them to hug their books while they carry them so the books don't fall on the floor.  I like how excited the little kids get when they are entrusted with and remember such a big word, how they stand at enthusiastic attention in line clutching their books to their chests like the treasures they are.   I like when the older kids successfully sound out the word bibliophile when they look at the "Bibliophiles always welcome" sign above my desk.

Do I like my job?
Yes.  When a student checks out a Shel Silverstein book I like telling them he's my favorite and asking them to share which poem they enjoy most in the book.  I love when one remembers and actually comes back with a bookmark in a page so he or she can show me.  I want to dance for joy when one asks to discuss some of the deeper meanings of her favorite poem and she observes, "I think the poem could really be taken two different ways."  I like doing this all year long not just during National Poetry Month.

Do I like my job?
Yes.  When a student comes through the line to sign out a book embossed with a shiny Caldecott or Newbery award I like to ask if they know what that means.  Most don't.  I like when their eyes light up because I tell them the book won a gold or silver medal for being so good.  I like asking them to give me their opinion when they return the book.  Did it deserve an award or do you think something else might have been better. I like when some of them remember.  I love when one little guy comes up to me at breakfast the next morning, throws his arms wide, and exclaims, "I LOVE that book!  It's GREAT!  It TOTALLY deserves an award!"  And I LOVE when one is bold enough to say, "I don't think the pictures in that book were good enough for an award at all!"  and yet he is willing to listen to me explain that when the book was published the color printing process was too expensive so the publishers opted for monochrome and although he stands by his review he agrees that with such information he does see things in a new light.

Do I like my job?
Yes. I like being able to give a student or a teacher the very book they are looking for.  I like helping a student who doesn't know what to chose find something to be excited about.  I feel very satisfied with myself when I can "sell" a kid who wants Diary of a Wimpy Kid, which is checked out as soon as I re-shelve it so I could never hope to give it to as many kids as want it,  EB White's Trumpet of the Swan because the synopsis I gave made it sound interesting.  I love having a student who knows what genre he loves most and knows he loves to write his own stories but he struggles for ideas and making them long enough.  I tell him short stories are a terrific form and ask if he'd like me to show him the section with anthologies of short stories so he may draw inspiration.  I freaking LOVED the way his eyes nearly bugged out of his head and he almost hurdled over two tables to get there with me and how he poured over those shelves.

Do.I.like.my.job?
Yes.  I like that some of the kids who have problems every where else come into the library and behave for me because it's the one place in the school where they have the right to choose something for themselves without interference.  When a boy sheepishly hands me a book which mostly only girls read and pleads, "Please don't make fun of me," I like how he stands taller when I look him straight in the eye to say, "People have all sorts of reasons for choosing different books and I will NEVER make fun of you for any book you choose."  I like researching the etymology of a student's surname because she tells me she is embarrassed by it because others make fun of it.  I love to see her new confidence because I now address her as Miss Brave and Strong since that one of the possible interpretations for her name. And when a first grader looks up into my face and asks me to show her where to find the happy family books are because her family isn't I know I am standing on holy ground in that moment because the book I put in her hand will either tell her someone hears, understands, and cares enough to give her an example of something to which she can aspire or that someone is just shoving a book at her to get her out the door.  I can either provide a measure of soothing and hope from the written word or I can give her meaningless drivel.

DO I LIKE MY JOB?
I like how kids who just want to be helpers push my book carts with pride while they help me go from class to class collecting books to return.  I like when kids who are working off fines by taping ripped pages, or erasing pencil marks on pages, or fixing torn covers wake up and realize they really need to take better care of their own books.  I like when  teachers asks me for resources and I hip them to something they never knew existed.  I like the sigh of relief that someone saved them some time and effort.  I like the excitement over new resources, because you know, the best teachers never stop being students.

DO I LIKE MY JOB??!!
Do I put 80 miles on my car every day so I can do it? Do I sit in a moldy basement to do it? Have I stepped it up a notch because the district has furloughed 14 of the 15 elementary school librarians? Do I bend over backwards to make sure every class has an opportunity even when the library is taken for testing, and meetings, and God knows what other activities? Did I show up and continue to give good service to the roughly 80 staff and 1500 students in not one but TWO schools even when I was dealing with CANCER?  Did I arrange the moving of shelves by promising baked goods to any teacher who helped after my work order was ignored for a month?  Did I then return about 6000 books to the shelves with no help and complete an inventory in record time so circulation could begin sooner rather than later or who knows when until the shelves would have been moved?  Do I seek out the testing schedules well ahead of time so I can plan around them? Do you think I do any of this for the generous remuneration to the tune of food stamp wages which are exceeded by what my daughter earns to flip hamburgers????

DO I FUCKING LIKE MY JOB???!!!
You are either woefully ignorant of what I do and how I do it or you are threatening me.  Neither reflects well on you.  If you want to know if I like my job I invite you to ask ANY of the classroom teachers I serve in either of my buildings what their perception of that would be.  Ask the best teachers.  Ask the worst teachers.  Then go ask the few who were in my buildings last year and have been moved to other buildings this year.  You go right ahead and ask them all.  You ask them, "Does Michelle like her job?"  You tell me what they say.  Yes, I am that confident that my work and the manner in which I perform my duties speaks for itself in answering that question.  If you can't see that you're not even as perceptive as the six year old who peered up into my eyes and said, "Miss, my daddy would just love you because I tell him how you always smile at us when we come in and me when I get a book.  He says only people who like their jobs smile at work.  Do you like your job, Miss?"  I beamed and wiped away a tear as I  told him, "I like my job very much because I love to help boys and girls find books they will enjoy."

Do I like my job?
Are you kidding me????  Don't you dare insult or threaten me with such ignorance and arrogance.  I love my job but I LOATHE the stupidity which drives the policies in our nation, our state, and this school district.  And I despise with every fiber of my being your audacity in asking me such a question simply because I hit my limit over a total disregard for the purpose of the library and your inability to communicate with me in a timely fashion regarding its usurpation.

That's what I wish I could have said.

Instead, with my eyes boring like lasers into hers and my jaw set I replied, "I like my job very much.  I know it is meaningful work, important work.  I'd like it even better if I had any sense of this school district valuing its libraries or the people who run them.  This district gets quite a bargain for the service I provide."

Expletive Deleted

It is my first class of the morning, after what has been two exceedingly draining schedules the last couple of weeks, after a weekend involving two consecutive 10 hour days for my own education.  The first class comes after I've already had to hit the ground running by collecting and checking in books from nine classes and helping herd 600 students through breakfast in half an hour.  It's morning and I am already tired.  I'm drained.  I'm spent.  I'm exhausted.  I feel like I have little left to give.

The class enters in jumbled, tumbling wave of preteen vexation.  I hear a torrent of profanity.  Oh no you didn't!  I stop them all.  I'm damming the damner.  Everyone is silent. Who was spewing that filth in my library?  Denials swirl.  Fingers point.  One confesses.  The teacher enters at the end of the line.  She asks what was going on.  I inform her.  She begins to remind the class of expectations as I walk to the reference wall.

I return with a thesaurus and dictionary plopping them on the table in front of the offending student*.  Do you want books today?  Yes.  Good.  Start with these.  When you can give me a list of ten appropriate words you could have used in this situation you may go find books to check out.  He is stunned, amazed, incredulous.  He is confused by the results of his confession.  The teacher says, "You heard her.  Go sit over there and get to work if you want books."

The other students come and go checking books out.  He sits against the wall paging through the books.  It was a gamble in this building full of defiant tweens who know the administration doesn't back up the teachers.  He is not displaying stubbornness, passive aggression,  obstinacy.  I ask if he's ready.   He says he is still looking.  Okay, keep at it.  He looks chagrined, humbled, small, unsure.

When everyone is gone I walk over seeing he has his fingers saving pages.  I ask him to show me what he has found.  He points in the thesaurus to the word "calm."  I ask if that is how he felt when he said the foul words.  He shakes his head.  Ok, it's a good word but it's not how you felt at the time.  What are appropriate words to describe how you felt?  I was angry.  Good.  We all get angry.  Now find ten words that mean the same as angry.  Do you know how to use this book?  He admits he doesn't.  He is embarrassed, fearful, disturbed....yet receptive, open, willing.

I show him the guide words, tell him to find the word "mad."  He pages uncertainly until he finds it.  Now read what it says.  Mad, angry...  Is that how you felt when you were cursing at the other boy?  Yes.  Okay, what other words mean the same?  Annoyed, upset, furious, incensed.  Were you annoyed?  Yes.  Were you upset?  Yes.  Were you furious and incensed?  What's incensed?  What do all these other words mean?  Mad.  They are all the same.  So it means mad?  Yep, that all mean mad.  Yeah, I was incensed.  Good.  Pick one of those words and look it up, find some more.  Angry.  Look it up.  Read it to me.  Angry, mad, irritated, bothered, upset, irate.  What's irate?  Think about it.  What do all the other words mean?  Angry and mad.  What do you think irate means?  The same thing.  Yep.  So you know a lot of those words, right?  Yes.  And some of them are new to you, right?  Uh-huh.  Which ones of the words you know do you like best for describing how you felt? Upset and furious. Ok, which of the words new to you do you like best for describing how you felt?  Irate and incensed.  Those are good words.

Guess what?  What?  You're allowed to be upset, furious, incensed, and irate.  You're not allowed to be nasty because of it.  You talk about what made you feel that way. "Ricardo, it makes me furious when you push me away from the chair I want."  You don't say, "Get outta my way you blankety-blank blank!"  That just makes more people angry and starts more fighting. Now tell me how you can say things better next time with some of these words.  I'm irate because you took my chair.  Good, that's a start.  Am I going to hear that other filth from you again?  No.  Good.  Go find some more books to improve your mind and your mouth.


*God knows my internal kneejerk response was to want to unleash a flood of invective on the offending party but that's probably all he hears at home hence his own colorful repertoire. 

Slice of Lime-Disorder in the Library

As one who runs two elementary school libraries with 22,000 books between them I spend a lot of time shelving books.  I don't mind.  I like the library to look neat.  It's more inviting that way.  Shelves such as this one are not what anyone wants to search through.  At the beginning of the year I discuss with all my students how to help keep the shelves neat.  An important way is to use a shelf marker to hold the spot a book came from while a student looks at a book to decide whether or not to check it out.  If they don't want it they slide it back in where the marker is and move on.  It's a good system...if it's used. I also tell them if the books tip over they can use the book ends to give the books a hug to help them stand up again.  Certain popular shelves like this one containing the "how to draw" books often wind up looking ransacked because too many kids crowd into it at once and just start grabbing books.





Over the course of a day I have many requests from students to help them find particular books.  I am happy to help.  That's my job.  It's why I am here.  I am sometimes astonished that the same kid can ask me every time where the same thing is and can't remember from week to week.  It's not as if I go moving around the entire library for kicks and giggles just to confuse them.  I even have signs labeling the walls and shelves as to locations of certain genres.  But I roll with it.  They are kids.  Kids need things repeated.  However, when I take someone by the hand to show where the graphic novels are located and I walk into this kind of disarray after a day of books on the floor and ill-behaved classes....well, let's just say I begin to teeter on the knife edge between gentle library lady and cranky library lady.

I'm not fond of the above scenes but at least all the books are still on the shelves and, in the first shot, sort of in order.  When I see books on the floor like this I get a wee bit testy.  Pick them up and lay them flat on a shelf.  Earlier this week I made one class stop what they were doing and come take a look at a particular aisle because  well over a dozen books were laying all over the floor and people were walking around them and ON them and Mrs. Lime.was.not.one.bit.happy.about.that!  Furthermore if you were in that aisle you better fess up now and get yourself back in there to pick a book up off the floor. NOW!  You have been coming here all year and you darned well know better than that.




My darlings, I want you all to learn a love of books.  I want you to enjoy your time in the library, what little of it you have (and admittedly, it is not your fault the administration only allows each class 20 minutes).  I want to make it a safe and happy place of learning.  For the love of books, I want you to pick up the books and use the shelf markers.

Bibliotherapy

Bibliotherapy: The use of selected reading materials as therapeutic adjuvants in medicine and psychiatry; also guidance in the solution of personal problems through directed reading. (AHIL Quarterly, Summer 1966, p. 18.)


I am seven years old. It is a couple years after my parents have separated. My brother and I are at the New Jersey shore with our mother.  We are in a bookstore because I have asked for a book rather than a t-shirt or a toy to be my souvenir of our trip.  She says yes and I pour over the books in the store until I find a biography of Helen Keller.  I read the blurb on the cover and I am stunned by the idea that a child who is blind, deaf, and unable to speak intelligibly can be taught language. How can anyone overcome such a thing? It is the worst circumstance I have heard of in my short life, worse than my parents' divorce which has devastated me. I am intrigued and I must have this book.  I devour the book and learn that Helen's teacher refused to make excuses for her.  Helen was expected to learn self-control and once she gained some measure of that she was able to learn to communicate.  If Helen and Annie could do that I can get through my parents' divorce I think.  And some measure of hope for myself is restored.

In fourth grade I discover Harriet Tubman through a collection of brief biographical sketches in our classroom.  I am amazed that an illiterate slave could find a way to lead so many to freedom.  Slavery, that's another circumstance worse than my own.  In the library I search for everything I can find about Harriet Tubman.  I learn that in addition to having to escape slavery and to being illiterate she suffered a head injury when an overseer hit her in the head with a large heavy object.  She suffered crippling blackout headaches which would have left her defenseless if she had been caught during one.  If she can overcome all that and lead others to freedom in the process,  I can overcome a teacher who singles me out for mistreatment in the class.  If she held her head high so can I.

I find folklore, fables, and mythologies and I see the wisdom of cultures around the world.  I drink in what they have to offer hoping I can grow to be the sage or the hero rather than the fool.  I learn about Martin Luther King, Jr and Gandhi and the power of non-violence.  I seek out books on the people who have overcome adversity of all different types.  I devour them hoping to take in something of their strength and resilience and goodness.

Later, as a teen I discover the power of research when I develop asthma and though we do not have access to decent medicines I learn, through books, how to do self-relaxation in order to control the natural panic response when an attack comes.  I learn if I can control panic and find a way to physically relax the breath comes easier.

I go to books for comfort, for solace, for information.  I do not not know there are people who prescribe books with intent to help others in the way I have been seeking out.  I won't know that until I am in college and a professor assigns a reading having to do with bibliotherapy.  It resonates with me.  I know in my bones this is a useful tool because I know the hope I found in biographies, the escape I found in fiction, the health I found in research.

Now I am in my forties.  I run two urban elementary libraries.  I see children every day who live in poverty, who lack a parent, who see violence in their homes. A first grader demands, "I need a happy family book."  I am currently helping another student, with a promise to a subsequent one for help.  I gesture to indicate just a moment.  When I am done with the first student I am asked, "Where are the happy family books?" Again, I let this student know waiting turns is important so I can help everyone.

When I finish and turn to her I meet her eyes and ask what she is looking for.  "Miss, can I have a happy family book?"  I am a little perplexed so I ask if there is a particular character or a certain story she is thinking of.  She looks me in the eye with a mixture of both expectant hope and deep need.  "Miss, I'd really like a book about families that are happy....because mine is not.  Do you have any?" she asks as if there is a whole happy family sub-genre under fantasy literature.

I am instantly struck.  I must find an excellent book for this child.  I pause a moment to let my brain catch up with my heart and then bend down to smile and say, "Follow me."  I see the flame of hope flicker more brightly in this first grader persistent enough to keep asking until her need was met.  We arrive at an often neglected corner shelf which contains one of my favorite authors, one I discovered when my children were young, one who is gentle and hopeful in his stories without being saccharine.  I kneel down, my little friend crawls in next to me.  I search the shelf and retrieve the book I was looking for.  Eyes meet again as I tell her, "This is a story about a little mouse girl who has some things which upset her.  Her parents and a teacher at school are loving and kind and help her find ways to feel better about things.  Does that sound like the kind of book you might like to read?"  Her face lights up, she nods vigorously and takes the book from my hands.  She sighs in relief and I see tension in her shoulders ease.

We walk together to my computer so I can check the book out to her.  I tell her this book is one of my favorites and I liked to read it to my children when they were little.  She beams again.  I ask her to tell me what she thinks when she brings it back, to tell me if she liked it or if she didn't; either answer is just fine because knowing her opinion will help me find just the right books for her.  She clutches the book to her chest as she agrees to report back then joins her classmates lining up to leave.

Just before exiting she turns back and says unprompted and with the kind of gratitude that keeps you warm on the coldest of days, "Thank you so much for helping me find this book, Miss."

That's my job.  That's why I'm here, sweetie.

The Librarian

This is my goal.  I want to be a librarian.  In a professional sense it requires a Master's Degree.  I have 12 undergrad credits in Library Science and  a certification as a Library Assistant.  They are steps in the right direction but not the final destination.

My job title is Library Paraprofessional.  In a technical sense it means I am required to have an Associate's degree in anything, anything at all.  It also means I am hired to be the assistant of the person holding the job title and professional credentials of Librarian.  In a financial sense it means my starting salary is roughly a third of the starting salary of the Librarian.

My actual job, since my school district furloughed the librarians, now includes running not one but two libraries all by myself.  I am not assisting a librarian and no one is assisting me.  I do much of the work a librarian would do, though in a school setting I do not give formal lessons to students.  I love my students.  I care about serving my faculty well.  I do not doubt the importance of what I do, in spite of having it communicated to me a hundred different ways that the powers-that-be do not value what I do in the least.

On a daily basis students call me the Librarian or the Library Teacher.  From the kids I accept this title because they associate me with the library and that's good enough.  They don't care about degrees and pay scales.  They care that I am there and that I help them find books.  It's the title they associate with the person who does that and I am fine with their level of understanding.

On occasion coworkers refer to me as the Librarian.  With someone new I quickly let them know I am the Para.  Everyone in my district needs to be reminded that the district has done away with librarians.  My coworkers need to know there is a difference between what I do and what the librarian does.  I let them know I am there to serve their needs to the best of my ability but they need to know the difference.

Over the holiday vacation I got together socially with several teachers at one of my buildings, at the building where I feel like I am regarded as a member of a team and where I feel appreciated by much of the staff and where they know I will go above and beyond for them yet they do not hold unrealistic expectations.  As we were taking time venting frustrations about our respective situations a couple of them offered some helpful suggestions for solving some issues I have.  I thanked them greatly at which point one said, "We want to take care of our librarian because you take care of us."  As is my habit, I corrected them by reminding them I am only the para.  One responded gently, "No, you're our librarian in spirit and in our hearts."  The others agreed and I knew it was meant sincerely. It touched me.

In my other school, the one where I had to send out a begging letter promising baked goods to get bookshelves moved so I could put books away, I do not feel regarded as a member of any team.  The library and anyone associated with it is merely a resource to be plundered at the slightest whim as opposed to a resource to be used and cared for by all.  I am merely one of the resources to be exploited.  Though I will say there are some teachers in that building who I do feel value the service I provide them and their students.

It was in this context that a particular staff member who makes at least four or five times what I make, recently tried to convince me I should take over running the RIF program she is responsible for.  She didn't think I had any idea what was involved.  I ran this program as a volunteer for seven years when my kids were younger.  It's a program which receives federal funds, in other words, it requires an obnoxious degree of documentation.  I know damn well what is involved, to say nothing of the logistical considerations of dealing with moving thousands of books (been there, done that), scheduling classes (I do enough of that), maintaining inventory, and organizing volunteers.  I politely declined.  She persisted.  I let her know I travel an hour in one direction to get to work every day and was not going to commit to extracurricular activities.  She brightened when she told me it occurred during the school day.  I reminded her that when I am at her school I am running book selection for classes in the library.  She needed me to explain carefully that when I don't have classes in the library I am repairing and shelving books (because, ya know, the elves who used to do that went on strike).

Then she pulled out what she thought were the magic words, "But you're The Librarian and this is about Books.  Don't you think you should be doing this?  It's a natural fit."

No, the district furloughed The Librarian.  I am The Para.

"Oh, it's all the same."

Not according to my paycheck it isn't.

"Well, I think it's perfect for you."

I think I have enough to do unless you'd like to have book selection canceled.

"I think I'll talk to The Principal about that."

Ok, feel free.

I'm not The Librarian yet.  I will be one day.  I respect the work it takes to earn that title.  I will accept the mistaken designation of children who love the library.  I will humbly thank coworkers who refer to me as such because they respect the work I am doing under adverse conditions.  I will not be manipulated when it is thrown around like some unctuous ego stroke.

Not Leaving This Child Behind

You, my little second grade friend, are more than any results of any standardized test.  You may have trouble with controlling your impulses or sitting still and you may have a terrible time on a computerized test.  You may have been the one second grader who took two hours when everyone else took 45 minutes.  Still, you are so much more than that test, which brought you nearly to tears and a meltdown.  It's incredibly unjust that you are subjected to this utter nonsense.  This test demonstrates more about the failure of an educational system demolished by foolhardy bureaucrats looking for soundbites to sell solutions to problems they know absolutely nothing about than it demonstrates your ability to read and comprehend.

Do you want to know what you are?

You are wonder.  You are delight over rolling a new multisyllabic word around your mouth and grinning ear to ear when you remember what it means.  You are the fun of wandering through the stacks of the library just to see what's there and what catches your eye.  You are the curiosity of wanting to know the whys and wherefores of the world.

You are enthusiasm.  You are the light of shared love of Go, Dog, Go! and the feigned indignation that such a wonderful book should not be included in our library.  You are the happy exploration of other books you've never heard of because you are confident that since we both love the same book I must have good taste and give worthy recommendations.

You are humor.  You are silly jokes and wry smiles and easy laughter.  You are a mischievous imp who will try to make adults laugh to avoid repercussions from minor offenses and to deflect from what you see as your own deficiencies.

You are anticipation.  You are the hope that a popular book has finally been returned to the library so you can have a turn.  You are excitement over Christmas, and summer vacation, and just to make my heart melt.....over library day.

You are perseverance.  You are taking so much more time than your classmates.  You are squinting at a screen agonizing over one brief passage.  You are blinking back tears at having little idea what the squiggles are saying. You are continuing to try even after everyone else has gone to listen to the stories I wanted you to hear because they affirm a person's worth even if that person struggles.  You are a hand waving in the air to signal you have finally finished.  You are a look of relief tinged with disappointment, frustration and fear.

I want you to know you are so much more than one stupid score mandated by state and federal regulations and enforced by administrators who can barely find their asses with their own hands.  I want to see the lights of wonder, enthusiasm, humor, and anticipation shine in your eyes again.  I want to give you whatever meager offerings I have to help you find the perseverance you will need for years to come.  I want to remind you that things containing written words can still give you joy rather than torment.

I give you a high five.  I tell you I am proud of how hard you worked and for how long you did so.  I whisper in your ear asking if you can keep a secret.  When you nod I tell you YOU will be the only student who is allowed to chose books from the cart of brand new books I have been working hard to process for inclusion in the library, the cart everyone has been drooling over all week.

I watch your smile broaden and your eyes light up.  You consider your choice carefully. You go for the gusto and ask if you may have two of the most coveted books on the cart.  I nod and see you beam as you take your place in line to check out,

You are now the envy of your classmates rather than one to be left behind.  You struggle to hold the books because they are large and heavy.  I stoop to help you arrange them.  You clutch them to your chest and grin as you tell me...

You are a bibliophile.

I Can't Make This Up

All my students in both my schools have been told on numerous occasions, "The book you check out under your name is YOUR responsibility, not your teacher's, or parents', or friend's.  YOURS."  All students have also been told if they owe a book or a fine to the library there will be no new books checked out until the book or fine is returned or paid.  I am also quite specific that students not swap books after they have been checked out because it's a problem if books are swapped and one person returns but the person swapped with does not.  These are not mysterious or fluid standards.

Here then in a conversation I recently had with a principal.

Principal: (showing me an overdue notice I had printed out for a student)  This student's family member was quite upset because it is claimed the student was not permitted to touch any books and had to sit with head down on the table.

Me: That's not the case.  Students with overdues may not check books out but they may look at books or magazines while classmates check out new books.  There were no behavior issues in any of my classes yesterday that would have led me to tell a student to sit with head down.

Principal:  Ok, I didn't think the story I was told was accurate but I wanted to check.  So at what point can the student check out a new book?

Me: When the last book is returned or, if it is lost, the fine is paid.

Principal: You won't just make the overdue or fine go away so the student can have a book?

Me: No.  Borrow a book, bring it back.  Lose a book, pay for it.  I don't publicize this but as long as something is paid I accept it as the full fine, on the recommendation of the former librarians.  Also, for those students and their families who have no means to pay I allow them to work off the fines by rendering service to the library.  Students must take responsibility for the materials they borrow.

Principal:  (unhappy with my "inflexibility" on the issue) Hhmph.  Well, fine.  (pausing)  You know, I have a $60 fine at the public library.  It's not fair.  I lent my card to a friend who borrowed a bunch of books and never returned any of them  They won't let me check out books until I pay the fine but I shouldn't have to because she borrowed them not me.  I'm boycotting the public library.

Ladies and gentlemen of the blogosphere, I would like it noted for the record that I did not immediately offer my unvarnished opinion of the complete and utter stupidity I was hearing.  I'm not sure if I was more shocked that my principal felt justified in refusing to pay her fine (accrued because she stupidly let someone else use her card) or the lack of shame in relating her opinion insofar as she thought I might be a sympathetic audience.  Either way, the shock served to protect my job as it rendered me momentarily speechless.

To be clear, when the Limelets were small our rule was no library books go outside the house.  Diana was six when she decided to sneak her new library book outside.  It wound up spending the night in a mud puddle.  The fine was $20.  I paid it because Diana did not have $20 but she dried dishes after dinner for months to earn the money to pay me back.....because I am not the one who broke the rule and left the book in a puddle overnight.  It took months because she often complained bitterly about the oppressive task she was assigned.  The complaining was so persistent I told her if she spent too much time griping she'd still dry the dishes and pay me to do so instead of being paid.  Her account balance fluctuated wildly at times depending upon her attitude.

So yeah, I'm all about the responsibility, though I now have a better idea of why so many folks (not all) at that school just don't seem to give a damn.