Book Talkin’

(You need to sing the title of this post to the tune of “Jive Talkin’”)

via the new york city public library's flickr page

via the new york city public library’s flickr page

As the school year draws rapidly to a close (seriously, where did it go?) I’ve been reflecting on my first year as a school outreach librarian. I can’t tell you how invigorating it has been to use different skills and get to try new things with a wide variety of audiences. One of my favorite programs this year was all of the booktalks I did for middle schoolers (6th-8th grade) and teachers. In my previous six years as a librarian, I had done very few book talks. It was something I really wanted to do, but it just never happened in previous positions.

I was extremely lucky that I started out this school year being invited to book talk first to two groups of teachers, one elementary and one middle school. After getting to see me and my colleague book talk, teachers had a sense of who I was, how I behaved, and liked me enough to want to have me get up in front of their students. This was a great break for me, and once one class had me and my coworker in, all of the rest of them wanted us, too.

This year I averaged about two book talks a month, usually spending an entire school day (8 a.m.-2 p.m.) talking to multiple classes. Often I was solo, but several times I was lucky enough to be joined by members of our teen staff. While I can do these book talks alone, six hours of booktalking is a long time, and even with a partner I’m exhausted by the end of the day. I vastly prefer booktalking as a team for two major reasons (other than the fact that it helps to save your voice):

1) Variety. With two readers sharing books, the kids will get a wider variety than from one person alone. While I am very careful to select a variety of books, there are certain genres and topics I just can’t muster much enthusiasm for. I can fake it, sure, but why do that when a coworker is just nuts about the books I’m lukewarm about? While I’m pretty good at selling any book, kids can tell the difference between my genuine enthusiasm and the enthusiasm I put on for their sake.

2) Attachment Librarianing. This is something I carried over from my preschool teaching days, and I think it really applies to librarianship. Kids and teens are all unique, and not every personality is going to have a great fit with every kid or teen out there. For example, I quickly bond with shy, nerdy, awkward kids and teens (I try to find the Whovians in every middle school class as fast as I can). Other kids like me just fine, and I can and love to help everyone, but the geeky kids are more likely to seek me out and will get better recommendations from me, just because we’re so simpatico. With more staff available, more kids are likely to find the librarian whose style and personality speaks to them, which equals better service.

For me, booktalks are a lot like storytimes for older kids. While I don’t reveal endings or major plot points when I book talk, I do tell a story to get kids invested and interested. A lot of times I will use the theme of a novel or a hook from a nonfiction title to riff for a while. Just call me the wholesome Richard Pryor of librarianship. For example, when I booktalk Fourmile by Watt Key, I spend a lot of time talking with kids about PTSD, the stigma of mental illness in our culture, how we treat our soldiers, and why so many books for kids feature dead dogs (seriously!). When I talk about Almost Astronauts, I tell them the anecdote about Jerrie Cobb shattering all isolation booth records (NINE HOURS AND FORTY MINUTES Y’ALL), yet never getting the chance to be an astronaut. From there, I talk a bit about how women are seen in our culture and how we are treated.

My style is a little unconventional, I suppose, but it works for me, and it works for many of the kids I booktalk to. And that’s the important thing, I think–is to find your own personal style, your voice. That’s what will make your book talks exciting and get the kids interested in reading the books you’re pushing.

And what books do I push? It depends. If a teacher is working on a genre study, I’ll bring titles in that genre. Often I like to do a mixture of fiction and nonfiction, new books and backlist. I try to have books at a wide variety of reading levels with a variety of appeal factors. Most of all, I strive to bring books that I’ve read completely and have a component that I am super, super excited about. Even if I didn’t personally love the book, if there’s a crazy character or fascinating setting that I can see kids being interested in, I’ll definitely book talk that sucker.

So that’s just a little bit about my new favorite professional responsibility. What about you–do you book talk? What’s your style? Any favorite titles?

Your silence is protection that they do not deserve

If she had lived, my mother would be turning 66 on March 2nd, 2013. She died in 2007 of an enlarged heart, which, to me, has a poetic justice to it. My mother did not give love easily, but she gave it fiercely.

My mother spent much of her life married to a man who despised her. A man who would beat her, and then turn to his youngest daughter and say, “Why are you crying? I’m doing this so you can do what you want.” A man who routinely called her stupid in front of her children. A man who, on the day the family portrait was to be taken, told her to stay home because she was too ugly to be in the picture.

His cruelty made my mother cruel for the longest time. She couldn’t beat her husband, so she beat me, instead (I was his favorite, you see). Then, in 1994, the OJ Simpson trial happened. My mother drew the parallels. She watched the trial obsessively. She drew strength from this public discussion of male power over female powerlessness. Only a few months after the trial ended, my parents divorced, my father’s attempted rape of my mother being the last straw.

It wasn’t so long ago that a husband forcing his wife to have sex would not have even been called rape. It wasn’t so long ago that women couldn’t open credit card accounts without their husband’s signature. It wasn’t so long ago that a man in a bar bought me a drink, and when I said goodnight, I was going home, he said, “I bought you drinks and that’s all I get?” (That really wasn’t very long ago; less than a year.)

We live in a culture where women are destroyed every day. A world where a nine year old black girl is called a cunt, and people laugh. A world where if we don’t laugh along with the rape jokes and the inappropriate advances, we’re called bitches, or frigid. Where if we get visibly upset, we must be “on the rag.” A man speaking loudly and emphatically about what he believes in is a man to be admired. A woman doing the same is a crazy shrew.

After the divorce, my mother was able to be kind again. She was the most polite person to those among us  whom we often look right through–waitresses, bus boys, cashiers at the grocery store. My mother had a kind word for all of them. She was a staunch advocate for her disabled son. She was the biggest fan of an awkward, chubby girl who had big dreams of making music, writing beautiful plays, and being a person of value one day. My mother loved her kids more than anything, and she loved her small group of friends, and she loved the elderly men and women she cooked for at the town nursing home. So much of her life, her love had been stymied; no wonder, in the end, she died of an enlarged heart. So full of love.

I learned from my mother how to escape. How to stand up for myself. How to believe, without outside validation, that I have worth. I deserve happiness. I deserve to have my voice heard. I deserve to have opinions.

I am a songwriter as well as a librarian. I can’t tell you how many times men have said to me, “Why don’t you write songs about something other than relationships?” Meaning, Your experiences as a woman have no value. They don’t interest me. You don’t matter.

In my work as a librarian, I am told the same thing. No one wants to hear from children’s librarians unless we’re talking about technology. You know what? I don’t care. Children don’t need technology programming. Sure, it’s nice. It’s fun. But do they need it? No. They need love. They need me to see them, and recognize them, and validate that they matter. They don’t need me to shove an iPad in their face and show them an app. They need to hear me tell them fairy tales, and nursery rhymes, and show them the way to being creative and happy human beings. There will be time enough for tech. They don’t need me to lead them to it. They will find that on their own.

But storytime, and crafts, and simply listening–this is women’s work, and therefore, has no value. And if a woman gets too big for her britches, she is harassed until she shrinks back into the shadows. Back in her place. Silenced. While men who sexually harass women are given awards. Accolades. Pats on the back.

This is larger than librarianship. This is a huge cultural problem with no easy solution. But change happens one step at a time. So I am beginning with my circles–one of those being the world of librarianship.

If you’re harassed by someone, don’t stay silent. Your silence is protection that they do not deserve. When you see misogyny and sexism running rampant, speak up. It isn’t easy. It’s hard work. It’s women’s work.

If you need me, I’ll have your back. After all, I learned from the best. My heart can hold the entire world. There’s room enough in it for you to help you be strong.

say hi to Miss Sarah

the teen librarian you wish you had (or were)

266758_10100355087563856_2037484457_o

I met Sarah Jones (Teen Librarian) via twitter, and I’m happy to say that via the gloriousness of the internet we’ve become real life friends. I’ve been continually amazed by  her efforts whenever she talks about her job on twitter or facebook, and I finally decided that I needed her to tell her story, in her own words, for all my blog readers to see. So, without further ado, here’s a tale of how one teen librarian, through gumption and awesomeness, took her library’s teen programming from pathetic to positively awe inspiring. 

A few months ago I gave a presentation at my state’s annual conference about teen programming.   I submitted the proposal because I recognized that I hadn’t heard anything new about teen or youth services at a conference in a long time, and decided that might mean that I’m an expert.  The presentation went great; it was standing room only, people took notes, and people had so many questions that we ran over our allotted time by quite a bit (and they were GOOD questions, not the kind of questions that come from that ONE person at every conference.  You know who I mean.).

I’ve been a full time teen librarian for a few years now, but the position was new when I started it.  I took over for someone who made a genuine effort but was a youth librarian not only at heart but 4 out of 5 of her work days.  A lot of libraries have that murky position—a staff member who does storytime three days a week but still stays late on Friday to throw a video game night for the local teens.  There were a lot of such librarians at my presentation, great people who WANT to be doing a good job, but who aren’t passionate about teen services, and aren’t sure where to start.  The great news for those librarians is that those of us who come to work each day barely able to believe we got so lucky as to score full time teenbrarian positions are often very, very willing to talk about of successes in excruciating detail, and will encourage you to steal our ideas.

I started my position in the Spring of 2010, which meant I took over an SRP (Summer Reading Program) that someone else had already planned.  I don’t remember many details of how things worked that summer, but my stats show that about 220 teens participated across three buildings.  The next year I burned the thing down and planned my own program from start to finish.  The very simple breakdown:

-read anything you want for ten hours, get a prize

-read anything you want for another ten hours, get another prize and get entered into the grand prize drawing and an invitation to the wrap-up party

-for every hour you read beyond that, you get an entry into a prize drawing for one of 5 or so super awesome other prizes

That’s it!  Super simple!  No dictating what they read or how they read it, or even what quantity they read.  If a special needs teen participates and only reads one book in 20 hours, that’s fine by me and he or she has no reason to be embarrassed, because I don’t even know.  If all they read is online fanfic, they don’t have to worry about figuring out how many pages it would be equivalent to.  It’s all just time.

To keep prizes cheap but also fun and motivational, I go the grab-bag route.  Every grab bag gets a full sized candy bar.  Some grab bags get an additional little something.  Smencils are a hit, and I also throw in things like rubber ducks, weird things I find in the $1 bins at Target, books I have left over from book clubs, really anything works.  A smaller number of bags get a small gift card, usually to Target or Game Stop.  Depending on budget, I might do 15-20 $5 gift cards.  I like to give a few $10 Coldstone gift cards, and then I always throw in one $20 card to a random bag.  They all get stapled shut, and the rule is that they can’t fondle them before they pick.  It’s important that you say fondle so they laugh.  I clearly mark and set aside a set of bags that only contain things that have no nuts and do not have a nut allergen warning, and another set that have no candy at all in case of a diabetic or severely food allergic teen.  Before they pick I ask “any food issues?” and so far it’s worked just fine.

The grand prize is easy.  When you were a teen, what did you want more than anything?  MONEY.  Last year, I gave away 5 $50 Visa gift cards.  Even at 30 I would totally join a summer reading club for a chance at winning fifty bucks!  And I’d likely spend it on the same things the teens do, realistically.

The Above-and-Beyond (that’s what we call the entries that come after they’ve finished the 20 hours) prizes are where I get to have a little fun.  Usually one or two are bigger gift cards for Game Stop or Barnes and Noble or something like that.  And then the other three are based on some theme.  Past themes have been Twilight, The Hunger Games, Manga/Anime, and Art Supplies.  For my Winter Reading program this year I’m making a Nerdfighter basket and a Doctor Who basket, among others.  It’s all about what your teens are into and what you can afford.

I’ve done this program two years in a row now.  That first, sad year when I took over someone else’s program I had 220.  The first year of my own program I had 435.  Last summer I had 647.  It turns out that spending less on incentive prizes in order to give them a chance at winning a BIG AWESOME PRIZE totally works.

There is, of course, more to my success than a prize basket including Hunger Games kneesocks.  Another important thing is that if teens are IN the library, they are more likely to turn in their forms.  So PROGRAM PROGRAM PROGRAM.   The ins and outs of my programs and failures and successes therin would take a whole separate post, but QUANTITY is seriously important.  At our Main library I’ve got something going on each week—often 2 or 3 or 4 things a week.  At each of our two branches I’ve got at least one thing a month throughout the year, and during the summer I try for 2.  I’d love to do more, but I’m the only person who does teen stuff for three buildings, and I have to sit at the reference desk sometimes or the youth department will mutiny.

There is ONE summer program that has to be addressed here though, and that’s the Summer Reading Wrap-Up Party.  While the grand prizes are a huge incentive,  getting the invitation to this party is the big awesome thing that EVERYONE gets.

And the party must be awesome.  This could mean different things for different libraries, but it definitely has to be something you don’t usually do as a program, and if it can be something you don’t usually allow at all, even better.  For me this means the dreaded after-hours program, where the teens get the run of the library after closing.  It also means LASER TAG.  My first summer as the planner of the SRP, I got the crazy idea that there should be laser tag at this event.  I quickly realized the terribleness of the idea of letting them play in the library proper, and I found a place nearby where I  could rent  a giant inflatable laser tag course. Since only about ten kids could play at a time, I had other things set up that were a little less exciting—video games, karaoke,  and lots and lots of pizza.  I made sure when handing out the invites to stress how insanely awesome the party was going to be, and also that I was going to be VERY VERY STRICT about not allowing anyone who didn’t complete the SRP to attend, so if they wanted to bring friends to this party, the friends had better finish the program too.  Guess how many teens came to that party?

…..

115.  Luckily I had roped a LOT of friends into helping supervise, and I’d required registration so I was ready for them.  By then end they were getting a little nutso, but overall it was a great time with no big problems.  As they were leaving, I heard many kids say “I CAN’T WAIT UNTIL NEXT YEAR!” so I knew I was going to have to bring it in 2012.

And bring it I did.  A little thing happened called The Hunger Games, perhaps you’ve heard of it?  One morning I had one of those great “in the shower” ideas that I should make it a Hunger Games themed party—I could still have laser tag, because that TOTALLY makes sense!  It would be the arena, where they’d kill each other!  On the invite I encouraged the teens to cosplay and held a costume contest.  I had many stations with HG games I found online so that they would keep busy while waiting their turn in the arena.  I made a scavenger hunt and a trivia game and gave out copies of the then just-released DVD as prizes, and one girl was so excited she’d won it that she squealed.  I kept them so friggin’ busy that they didn’t have a chance to misbehave, and I got a TON of adult volunteers to help me run all of it.  For me it was key to have my friends help, and not my coworkers, because I knew I needed people with a high teen tolerance level.  As soon as they saw the Hunger Games font on the invitation the teens started to get REALLY excited about the party.  Total attendance?  216.  TWO HUNDRED AND SIXTEEN TEENAGERS AT ONE PROGRAM.

Don’t be discouraged by humble beginnings.  Don’t start out thinking that this wouldn’t work at your library.  I never thought that the attendance at a wrap-up party two summers after that first one would have been the same as the total participation in 2010.  I’m not special, I’m not anybody you’ve heard of, and I’m not a mover or a shaker.  But I’m on the front lines, talking to teens, throwing programs and hoping they come over and over and over again until they do.   Start now, keep it up all year, and they’ll come to your SRP.   If you asked me what I’ve done to build the relationships with my teens that I have, I’d say, “Eighteen programs this month” and then probably eat a Kit Kat.

Read more about Sarah’s programs and teenbrarian philosophy at teenbrarian.blogspot.com

May the Fourth Be With You: 2013

May 4th is on a Saturday next year and so help me, I’ll be planning and implementing a large scale, fun for the whole family “May the Fourth Be With You” Star Wars nerdamondium party that will be so awesome I may just explode.

Other libraries have done it with much success. You can get free cosplay storm troopers etc from your local branch of the 501st legion which is really the thing that’s going to make the party. The idea is to have a wide range of activities that would appeal to all ages, bringing in families as well as single adults. Additional ideas include:

Do you think you’d have a Star Wars party at your library?

Be Authentic

Lately I’ve really felt a yearning to work more with teens. I recently had the opportunity to booktalk some of Adam Selzer’s books to some fifth grade classes, and it was amazing. To prepare, I asked Adam for some fifth-grade related biographical tidbits to share with the kids. One question was, “What did you think about going into sixth grade?” Adam’s answer was, “Getting to be in a different school than my younger brother.”

When I told the kids this information, I added a personal anecdote about how when I started Kindergarten, my sister paid a girl named Stormy five dollars to play with me, so she (my sister) wouldn’t have to be bothered. I told it with the self-deprecating verve of Louis CK, and half the kids laughed while the other half sort of gasped. It was really quite something to see the kids react to my sad little tale. I think they appreciated how vulnerable I was, while being humorous with it at the same time. It was a true story that they could identify and empathize with, and it really got them on my side for the rest of the presentation.

For another example, after showing the kids some pictures of Adam in fifth and sixth grade (which, man, those pictures are awesome), I wandered off on a tangent about hammer pants, scrunchy socks, rolling one’s jeans, body touch clothing, and stirrup pants.(I may also have sung a bit of, with hand actions, 2 legit 2 quit.) The kids had very little idea what I was talking about, but they (and their teachers) definitely responded to my dorky enthusiasm.

I think this trips up a lot of people when it comes to working with teens. They don’t need–or particularly want–you to be into exactly what they’re into, but they do appreciate if you are into your own thing, and can geek out, and therefore understand the feeling when they’re geeking out about something.

Sometimes your interests will overlap (some eighth graders I know share my enthusiasm for Doctor Who, and like that I know quite a bit about memes) but this definitely is not required to work well with teens. What they respond to is whether or not you’re being authentic, real, and genuine. You might have absolutely not idea what they are rambling on about, but if you’re genuinely excited that they are excited, they’ll keep talking to you, and let you in on what inspires, excites, and amuses them. If you’re fake, it doesn’t matter if you’re faking it about all the things they’re really into, they’re not going to like you. Nobody likes a poseur. It makes people feel like you’re not taking seriously something that’s important to them, and that pisses people off. Teens, especially, have finely tuned bullshit detectors. Don’t force squeals about Justin Bieber if it’s really Michael Buble who really trips your trigger (and don’t try to use teen slang if what you’d actually say is trip your trigger, awesome sauce, or 2 legit 2 quit).

I think that teens need to see people who are fully and confidently themselves, when they are in such a period of flux, growth, and discovery. At the very least, it’s a model of interaction that I’ve been able to use with success. What about you? Whether you work with teens or not,  are you able to be as much your authentic self when you’re at work as possible? Or do you feel the need for an elaborate workplace persona?

top 11 posts of 2011

When I first started this blog, I had no grand aspirations. I am passionate about the library field, child development, and children’s literature, and I wanted to have a place to express my thoughts, and I hoped that I would garner at least a dedicated, engaged readership. Fairly early on, I experienced the Elizabeth Bird bump, and for that I’ve always been grateful. I appreciate my twitter friends for all their conversation and ideas, and frankly, without them I probably wouldn’t be writing much at all.

Looking at my top posts, I realize that people love it when I write about things that a lot of librarians are probably thinking but are too scared to talk about, and my programs for children. I’m going to make an effort to write more about these topics in 2012, and also write more from the gut and the heart, no matter what the topic (my angsty review of Ingenue being an example of this new goal).

Thank you to all my readers for commenting, emailing my posts to your colleagues, and generally being awesome. Let’s do more of this in 2012.

top posts (excluding static pages):

11. Meow Mix. I think this is solely because of the cat picture, although I think my cat who doesn’t know how to meow storytime through line is pretty awesome.

10. Make it Happen: Teen Space. Pretty much an airing of grievances post that also allowed me to congratulate and laud a fellow librarian. Now complete with a comment I didn’t initially approve because it’s super negative, but hey, whatevs. Different strokes for different folks.

9. New Storytime Favorites. Why is this so popular? I dunno. Probably because I mention cats and I’m a librarian. The cat/librarian diagram is so venn it’s almost just a circle.

8. Tales of the Madman Underground: A Love Letter. This was a very personal post and book review, and I almost didn’t publish it. But this book is amazing and I think that librarians—much like teachers—need to fight for the right to be real, flawed, human people with pasts and problems like any other people. Just because we work with children doesn’t mean we’re all Mary Poppins, and we shouldn’t be punished for being real people. But seriously, read that book.

7. The Ethical Librarian. This one is me totally ranting and raving on my high horse while my horse is standing on a soapbox. You might as well call me the Bughouse Square librarian. I took an information ethics class in library school, one of the few actually challenging courses I took, and it ruined me forever. You’re welcome.

6. #makeitbetter. I just hate bad librarians. Sorry if you’re one of them.

5. You might not being doing it wrong, but you could certainly do it better. Ah, my screed against library schools. I might not get so worked up if I weren’t $50,000 in debt, but that ship’s sailed, huh? Good times. And by good times I mean kill me.

4. Librarian, Weed Thyself! Wherein I apply the CREW and MUSTIE methods to people. I am a monster. A pudgy, cuddly, hyberpolic monster.

3. Beginning Reader Storytime. A warm and fuzzy post about how I revamped my library’s preschool storytime. How…charming.

2. How to Become the Best, Most Versatile Baby & Toddler Programmer Ever. Babies and toddlers are tricky audiences.

And, unsurprisingly, the number one post of 2011 is…

1.  Summer Reading, Pain in my a**. So many people enjoyed my rants about the sacred cow of summer reading, which really pleased me. I love when people reassess long running programs with a fresh eye. Can’t wait to see what people do with their 2012 summer reading programs.

Happy new year, everyone!

Love,

Miss Julie

#makeitbetter

For most of my adult life, my jobs have called for me to work with children–adorable, slobbery faced babies, chubby cheeked, bow-legged toddlers, and loveable, chattering preschoolers. When these children fuss or act out or throw a tantrum, it’s vexing, but manageable–after all, they’re still small enough for the average adult to pick them up and carry them off, which is a strategy I heartily endorse when your kid is losing it loudly in public.

Yet as well all know, these little kids grow up to be bigger kids, and eventually they end up in that fresh hell of adolescence(1). They are taller, ganglier, smellier, stronger, and just as determined to say “No!” and push boundaries as any two year old. Unlike with a toddler, however, we can’t just pick up a thirteen year old and haul him out the door. We have to talk with him, just as you do a toddler, but at longer length, and with a conversation partner who can respond, question, and prod you with much more than just a screamed “No!”

It’s easy to love babies and toddlers. They’re designed that way–big eyes, easy smiles, chubby limbs. It’s hard to love your average teenager. They slouch, they sneer, they argue–but they’re designed that way. They’re trying on personalities along with their clothes and hairstyles, and they’re trying to find out who they want to be in the world. Once they know who they are, they’ll find out what they want to do, and begin to take a wider interest in the world. Teens are designed to have an intense preoccupation with the self, because they are trying to figure out who that “self” is. And is there a better place to pursue this self-discovery than the library?

The best libraries and best librarians know these things about teens, mostly through observation. Just as it would serve children’s librarians better to take child development courses, it would serve teen librarians better to do the same. (2)  Adolescence is a turbulent, fascinating time in human development, and if you don’t know what it entails and why it happens the way it does, you’re going to be confused, and that confusion will lead to anger, irrational behavior, and bad choices.

Erikson has a concept called “psychosocial moratorium”, which is a concept that adolescents need a time-out from “the sort of excessive responsibilities and obligations that might restrict the young person’s pursuit of self-discovery” (Steinberg p. 458). What does that mean? Teens need time to hang out, without being told what to do, as a developmental NEED. They are not lazy; they are not stupid; they are not purposefully trying to ignore you; when they sit there, with their friends, being obnoxious, they are actually HARD AT WORK, BECOMING PEOPLE.

Steve Teeri (3) understands this, and is doing good work in Detroit supporting teens’ need to discover, push boundaries, and explore. He also makes a good point about remembering your own time as a teenager, and the stupid crap you probably did/said/wore:

Young adults are at a pivotal time in their lives. As they near adulthood, teens try on different personas and identities, in an attempt to figure out just who the heck they are. When I was a teen it was the exact same process. For me it was being preppy with my letter jacket and khakis one day. Doc Mart[e]n steel-toe boots with a black shirt and jeans another. Maybe a Hypercolor color-changing shirt and cut-off pair of jean shorts that we won’t talk about any further. Matched together with this quest for identity, is a rush of hormones and limitless teen energy. It’s enough to make any settled adult run for cover.

He also issues a challenge to those who are not passionate about the work, a gauntlet which I’ve tossed down so many times on this blog that my hand is starting to hurt:

When speaking about our teens, I try never to say “the teens,” it is always “my teens” or “our teens.” I take full responsibility and ownership of their experience and growth as people when in my department. It sounds basic, but I have heard stories about YA staff who do not want to interact with their teens. If that is the case, hit the eject button and get out of YA immediately.

Yet when you consider that Erik Erikson considers young adulthood to last until forty (yes, 4-0, with 13-19 being more precisely “adolescence”), you can scarcely be a librarian period without working with young adults.

Which leads into Justin’s heartfelt plea for more teen librarians. Or librarians for teens. Which, sadly, is not likely to happen any time soon; it takes a rare kind of person to work with teens well, and there just aren’t enough of these people to meet the demand. However, what teen librarians can do is foster environments where all library staff treat teens with the same professionalism and courtesy that is accorded older adults, and the same indulgence and patience that is accorded to children. They can advocate for teen spaces, services, and programs and set an example for their coworkers to follow.

Sometimes this will be a fairly easy task. Susan Kunkle, at the Forest Park Public Library, was able to reclaim a room in her Youth Services Department that was being used by an outside agency and turn into a teen space. She was fortunate to have the  support of her director, board, and staff, and most importantly, the teens.

Sometimes this will be a struggle, if you lack support, or funding, or both. My friend Gordon has limited hours and funds with which to make things happen for the teens he works with, but he does the most and best with what he can. Last year he garnered tremendous online support to win a free visit from author Kimberly Pauley, and I’ve gathered lots of anecdotal evidence from his online professional development that he cares about and understands his teens deeply. So no whining that without flashy gadgets you can never hope to catch and keep the attention of teens; all they really crave is positive interactions with adults (also a developmental need).

So the title of this post. Many of you might be familiar with make it happen, which is an attitude and an edict and a way of approaching your work and your life. I would like to suggest that once you start making things happen, you need to keep it going and look at how you can make things better–which, in my opinion, is what librarianship is all about. Everything you do and collect has the potential to make someone’s life better. By offering a photocopier and assistance in using it, an elderly man will be able to send in the forms needed for his disability card, which will make his life better. By giving a frazzled parent a copy of The Happiest Baby on the Block, you’ll make that parent’s (and that baby’s) life better. By offering free ESL classes and materials, you’ll make a non-native English speaker’s life better. By giving teens the time and space they need to become themselves, you’re making their lives better. By doing these things, you are a better librarian and a better person.

Know a librarian who is making it better? Tell us about it. I could use some good news.

Library Teen Centers, Notes from the Field by Steve Teeri
This is a Call by Justin Hoeneke

1: Ruby Oliver, the main character in E. Lockhart’s funny Ruby Oliver novels, calls adolescence “Mocha Latte”, which sounds so much nicer, doesn’t it?

2: Add Childhood by Laurence Steinberg and Roberta Meyer to your professional development bookshelf immediately. Easy to read, clearly laid out, and concise, it will arm you with information from infancy to adolescent with ease.

3: It’s hard to not type Steve’s name with a million Es, and in all caps.

make it happen: teen space.

(In the interest of full disclosure, I worked at Forest Park Public Library back in 2006/2007, and I must admit that every single time I worked a desk shift, I would stare balefully at the local history room. Not that I dislike local history, mind you, but because I like and care about teenagers more—and I could see, even then, that the teens in Forest Park that were coming to the library deserved a place of their own to hang out and be themselves. I wanted to take over that room that was being used by the historical society and put it to use for the teens. I was continually annoyed that this public library space was only accessible by appointment when we had a sizeable group of teens who would love to be able to sprawl out in a space that they could call their own. Being the rabble-rouser that I am, I would state my opinion on this topic to my manager at every possible opportunity. My manager indulged my rambling, but was wise enough to know that such a project would be incredibly involved and difficult and while I waxed philosophical, she bided her time.
Eventually I left Forest Park for other opportunities, but my strong feelings about those teens and that room persisted. So when, a few months ago, I saw an article about FPPL’s new teen space, I knew I wanted to hear more about, so I interviewed the current manager, Susan Kunkle, via email about the project.)

The Youth Services department in Forest Park serves birth-12th grade, which is an incredibly wide range of ages to serve in a space that is essentially one open floor with little division. This was a bit of a problem, Susan wrote, because “[t]eens like–and need–to work and socialize in groups and there was no carved out place for that. We had this open room, but no areas to just sit and talk without having little kids right there too [...]. Our tables really only fit four to five comfortably. We would regularly have eight teens try to cram themselves in a small study room or one day over a spring break there were easily fifteen kids, who had just pulled chairs from everywhere out to the middle of the floor so they could all talk together. We would have to break them up for practicality’s sake because of noise, or to avoid people getting hurt, or because people couldn’t get around them—but they weren’t doing anything wrong. We wanted them to feel like it was okay to hang out. We just needed a better option. I was leading the Teen Advisory Board at the time, and I had really come to know and care about these kids and honestly, they really wanted to be there. We needed to give something back to them and show them that it worked both ways.” (Emphasis added).

After my departure from FPPL, it seems that the idea for having a teen space in the library really started to gain momentum. According to Susan, it was around a three year project, with “[t]he former manager Lindsey Dorfman and our Director Rodger Brayden really set[ting] down the groundwork, collaborating with our board, and feeling out the possibility. Our door counts and circulation were up, we were seeing a lot of growth in our program attendance and there was a lot of discussion in the community about creating more safe spaces and safe activities for teens, so it really felt like the right time.”

Susan, with the support of her director and board, was able to negotiate the Historical Society’s leaving the room so the library could resume its use. With that in place, the exciting process of bids, meetings, planning, and input began. Susan consulted with her teen advisory board regarding how the space would be used and how it would look. From a narrowed down selection of choices, the teens gave their input on fabric, furniture, and materials, and Susan was surprised with what they picked.

“I really liked their choices. So many times I think people are afraid to open themselves up from feedback from kids because they feel their suggestions are all going to be way out there or unreasonable, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned in YS it’s that it always pays off to listen to them. Kids are more practical than we give them credit for sometimes and at the end of the day, don’t we want them to be invested in what we do?”

Yes, we do. Great job, Susan!