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silveradept[This year's December Days are categorized! Specifically: "Things I should have learned in library school, had (I/they) been paying attention. But I can make that out of just about anything you'd like to know about library school or the library profession, so if you have suggestions, I'll happily take them.]
redsixwing also wanted to know what the best thing I've ever done was. If we're talking about sheer numbers, or sheer anything, actually, both of my most successful programs to this date have been ones that didn't actually involve me all that much over the length of the program.
I came to my organization fresh-faced and on the idea that libraries were definitely places where teenagers and children could go to find a community of people through game-playing. And given that the library I was coming to was basically a converted automobile parts store, there were a lot of kids who were coming after school and were crammed into a tiny teen section, well, there was plenty of opportunity for things the other people in the library might politely term were disruptions. I had seen a lot of excellent progress done with various game systems at one of my internship libraries, and I thought I could replicate that with my current library, in only the way that someone who doesn't know what protocol or anything else is and is just starting out at their job, so they don't know at all what they're supposed to do or not do. But I was pretty certain I had a good idea, so I convinced the Friends of the Library to lay out some capital to buy a game system, controllers, games, and the works, at which point I made it into a three day a week program, using the meeting room and drawing in the teenagers and kids who might otherwise be without programming to come in and play games with me and each other.
It worked. Although it would soon be cut down to two days a week because the manager of the time (the one that would eventually put me on probation) felt that it was too much use of my time for the program. And when the game for that system that everyone was really waiting for came out, the program took off. Those two days of the week that the program was on, I could fit almost twenty into a tiny meeting room, where they would whoop it up somewhat more loudly than in the library, but where they also essentially formed a community, norms, rivalries, and a general appreciation for each other's skills at the game. And where I was never actually someone to challenge the top tier competitors, but I would be able to persist in the matches and try to stay in as long as I could. Weirdly enough, that meant I garnered some amount of respect for the skill I did have, even if I didn't have a whole lot of it. Many of the kids I had in that program are now out of college and married, gainfully employed, and succeeding as adults in their lives. I'd like to believe that I helped with that some, by providing them some life lessons in the microcosm in a space where they could experiment and otherwise be themselves.
When we moved to the new building, and the game system no longer needed the meeting room as a specific program to play on, I made the second good decision and gave the controllers barcodes to make them check-outable to people with library cards. I'd occasionally wander over and play some (and I managed to get the Friends to spring for the next version of that system and it's popular game), but for the most part, I don't see the audience that is using the systems all that much anymore. But my circulation stats say there's a lot of game-playing going on all the time. All because I didn't know any better and decided that I was going to do a big program that I had seen done elsewhere.
The other new building brought on some interesting thoughts as well - most of the people that I see in the library in the teen section are there for the computers, the socialization, or the games. And yet, I kept trying to ask questions and get feedback on how things were going, including in the teen section's book collections, because they were checking out excellently and well, even if I didn't see anybody there. One of the ways I tried to communicate, borrowing a different idea from another colleague, was by putting out an easel with a big sheet of paper on it with a question. The question portion of the communication didn't go over all that well, but what I did start to notice were the drawings. Because it was a full easel out, there were some people who were taking the big blank sheets and using them as a canvas to draw art - anime-inspired art to start with. I knew who it was, because they signed their work, but that was all I knew - I didn't see anyone drawing at the easel at any time.
I definitely wanted to encourage this idea, so I thought about where I could display the art so that others would see it and be encouraged to draw their own art. It took a little thinking, but I decided that my best gallery space would be the windows in the teen section. And after a colleague pointed out to me an adhesive that can be pulled off the window without leaving a sticky residue or any permanent marks on the window itself, I had my gallery. Within the first few pieces going up on the windows, there were more available. Soon enough, I was going to need more space. So what I did, at the time, was take pictures of the artwork on the easel, and then use an image editor program to turn the pencil lines into something that would show up much more clearly. Then I saved them, stuck them in the slideshow I was already using to promote library services and products, and there were digital copies of the art on the windows, even if the windows themselves had to rotate their art through so that newer works could join the older ones on the windows.
Even now, with at least a hundred pieces of art in the collection, I still have met maybe one or two of the artists involved. Many of them have graduated and gone on to other things, but there are others willing to take on the role when they leave. But the Invisible Art Collective has been one of my best programs as well - it's there for when someone wants to participate or admire, and it can be done in relative anonymity and obscurity, without a librarian coming by and spoiling it by gushing all over it while it's being created. And it gives teens who are at the library something to do while they're there that isn't computers and socializing time, if that's what they want.
Library school didn't prepare me for this - it suggested that something like Story Time was going to be my best program, and other programs that had active participation between librarian and public were going to be the ones that everyone wanted to do. I had to rely mostly on instinct and conviction for both of these programs to work - because how do you train someone to put on a passive program for an audience that they never see? It's a tricky business, most definitely. If you're lucky, maybe you get an inkling of the people who might be interested, long enough to put something together and go from there. Nowadays, I feel a little like I might have done my best work right at the beginning of my career, since not much else since has approached the numbers or the popularity. But that just means there's something else that's going to be fantastic coming for me soon enough. Just as soon as I can see the outline of another invisible audience, I guess.
redsixwing also wanted to know what the best thing I've ever done was. If we're talking about sheer numbers, or sheer anything, actually, both of my most successful programs to this date have been ones that didn't actually involve me all that much over the length of the program. I came to my organization fresh-faced and on the idea that libraries were definitely places where teenagers and children could go to find a community of people through game-playing. And given that the library I was coming to was basically a converted automobile parts store, there were a lot of kids who were coming after school and were crammed into a tiny teen section, well, there was plenty of opportunity for things the other people in the library might politely term were disruptions. I had seen a lot of excellent progress done with various game systems at one of my internship libraries, and I thought I could replicate that with my current library, in only the way that someone who doesn't know what protocol or anything else is and is just starting out at their job, so they don't know at all what they're supposed to do or not do. But I was pretty certain I had a good idea, so I convinced the Friends of the Library to lay out some capital to buy a game system, controllers, games, and the works, at which point I made it into a three day a week program, using the meeting room and drawing in the teenagers and kids who might otherwise be without programming to come in and play games with me and each other.
It worked. Although it would soon be cut down to two days a week because the manager of the time (the one that would eventually put me on probation) felt that it was too much use of my time for the program. And when the game for that system that everyone was really waiting for came out, the program took off. Those two days of the week that the program was on, I could fit almost twenty into a tiny meeting room, where they would whoop it up somewhat more loudly than in the library, but where they also essentially formed a community, norms, rivalries, and a general appreciation for each other's skills at the game. And where I was never actually someone to challenge the top tier competitors, but I would be able to persist in the matches and try to stay in as long as I could. Weirdly enough, that meant I garnered some amount of respect for the skill I did have, even if I didn't have a whole lot of it. Many of the kids I had in that program are now out of college and married, gainfully employed, and succeeding as adults in their lives. I'd like to believe that I helped with that some, by providing them some life lessons in the microcosm in a space where they could experiment and otherwise be themselves.
When we moved to the new building, and the game system no longer needed the meeting room as a specific program to play on, I made the second good decision and gave the controllers barcodes to make them check-outable to people with library cards. I'd occasionally wander over and play some (and I managed to get the Friends to spring for the next version of that system and it's popular game), but for the most part, I don't see the audience that is using the systems all that much anymore. But my circulation stats say there's a lot of game-playing going on all the time. All because I didn't know any better and decided that I was going to do a big program that I had seen done elsewhere.
The other new building brought on some interesting thoughts as well - most of the people that I see in the library in the teen section are there for the computers, the socialization, or the games. And yet, I kept trying to ask questions and get feedback on how things were going, including in the teen section's book collections, because they were checking out excellently and well, even if I didn't see anybody there. One of the ways I tried to communicate, borrowing a different idea from another colleague, was by putting out an easel with a big sheet of paper on it with a question. The question portion of the communication didn't go over all that well, but what I did start to notice were the drawings. Because it was a full easel out, there were some people who were taking the big blank sheets and using them as a canvas to draw art - anime-inspired art to start with. I knew who it was, because they signed their work, but that was all I knew - I didn't see anyone drawing at the easel at any time.
I definitely wanted to encourage this idea, so I thought about where I could display the art so that others would see it and be encouraged to draw their own art. It took a little thinking, but I decided that my best gallery space would be the windows in the teen section. And after a colleague pointed out to me an adhesive that can be pulled off the window without leaving a sticky residue or any permanent marks on the window itself, I had my gallery. Within the first few pieces going up on the windows, there were more available. Soon enough, I was going to need more space. So what I did, at the time, was take pictures of the artwork on the easel, and then use an image editor program to turn the pencil lines into something that would show up much more clearly. Then I saved them, stuck them in the slideshow I was already using to promote library services and products, and there were digital copies of the art on the windows, even if the windows themselves had to rotate their art through so that newer works could join the older ones on the windows.
Even now, with at least a hundred pieces of art in the collection, I still have met maybe one or two of the artists involved. Many of them have graduated and gone on to other things, but there are others willing to take on the role when they leave. But the Invisible Art Collective has been one of my best programs as well - it's there for when someone wants to participate or admire, and it can be done in relative anonymity and obscurity, without a librarian coming by and spoiling it by gushing all over it while it's being created. And it gives teens who are at the library something to do while they're there that isn't computers and socializing time, if that's what they want.
Library school didn't prepare me for this - it suggested that something like Story Time was going to be my best program, and other programs that had active participation between librarian and public were going to be the ones that everyone wanted to do. I had to rely mostly on instinct and conviction for both of these programs to work - because how do you train someone to put on a passive program for an audience that they never see? It's a tricky business, most definitely. If you're lucky, maybe you get an inkling of the people who might be interested, long enough to put something together and go from there. Nowadays, I feel a little like I might have done my best work right at the beginning of my career, since not much else since has approached the numbers or the popularity. But that just means there's something else that's going to be fantastic coming for me soon enough. Just as soon as I can see the outline of another invisible audience, I guess.
no subject
Date: 2017-12-31 03:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-12-31 03:34 am (UTC)