Libraries Are Not Sacred Spaces
  • In case you didn’t know, I’m moving to a new house — so, in the middle of packing up one house and cramming the stuff into a new one, I’m both a) busy and b) possibly without consistent Internet access. Which means it’s time for some guest bloggers to step up to the plate.

    Third up is Maggie Carroll, who should probably be made a saint because she’s married to Rick Carroll and hasn’t yet strangled him with a lamp cord. Even beyond her sainthood, though, she’s a good writer and a compelling thinker, so when you’re done here hop on over to her site, Morphematics.

    So. This is a guest post. On the Wendig’s blog. Should I feel like I’ve become a finalist for the Wendig Bowl? Should I secretly hope there’ll be Jello wrestling? Naked Jello wrestling? Should I, in my heart of hearts, lust after Dan O’Shea’s back hair? Should I print off the post listing me as a “winner” and add it to the Voodoo Shrine o’ Chuck I’m brewing in my closet under the stairs?

    Probably not.

    … There’s something wrong with me.

    But we don’t have time to open that bag of cats right now. There’ll be fur and hissing and claws. And no one wants that.

    At least, not this early in the day.

    Onward, upward, and all that jazz.

    Yeah. I Read.

    Most of what I’ve been reading lately is ebooks. They’re easy to obtain. They’re easy to store. They’re easy to carry: thousands of books can fit on my 8GB micro chip that slides neatly into my smartphone. (I won’t mention which one here, since Wendig bows to Our Apple Overlords, and I’m with One Of The Other Guys.) Suffice to say, they’re convenient, they’re ridiculously portable, and you can get them from the convenience of your favourite online store, directly downloaded to your computer and for far cheaper than a hard copy would run you at Chapters or Barnes & Noble.

    But ebooks lack something: physicality. And while that’s their whole point, there’s something infinitely satisfying about holding a physical object in your hands. It’s ephemeral. It’s visceral. The smell of pulp and glue. The whisper of page sliding on page. The weight of it. The angles. The edges.

    Not strictly needing electricity to read it.

    And I missed all these things. So I did something I haven’t done in years: I went to my nearest public library and got me a brand spankin’ new card.

    My first order of business was to rack up with the novels. I’m permitted 18 at a time, so you bet your motherfuckin’ ass I borrowed 18, and put myself on a waitlist for about a dozen highly-popular others. I read fast and retain about 85% of the info given. I devoured that first batch and kept going back for more. Jim Butcher, Christopher Moore, Robert McCammon, Val McDermid, Dennis Lehane. A visit to the library quickly became a biweekly thing.

    Enter the Kid

    Somewhere along the way, Rick convinced me to take Jason, my nearly 5-year-old son, with me. I thought, sure. Why the fuck not? I made sure to get him his own library card when I got mine, so let’s go take out some books for him! That first visit was awesome. We got seven or eight books he really enjoyed as bedtime stories, and got to play with the toys in the kids’ library. All around, well worth the trouble of convincing him the library monster wouldn’t eat him. (Not really, he doesn’t have much in the way of imagination due to his disorder.)

    But somehow, me saying “I’m going to the library; they have some books in for me” turned into “Okay dear. I’ll tell Jason to get his shoes.”

    Now, I don’t really mind so much, but occasionally, he’s a handful. And the parent of a highly-energetic, ASD child does not have an easy time coming up against the stonewall disapproval of a librarian.

    SHHHHH!

    Last week, I stood at the counter to check out my books – I only rotated six out of my everlasting stack, so it wouldn’t take that long – and Jason really wanted to go downstairs to the children’s library to play with the blocks and choose a couple of books. I told him to wait for Mommy, I’d just be a minute. He ran out to the stairs anyway. So I called for him to come back. He was about, oh, 15 feet away, so I didn’t have to raise my voice all that much.

    I still got a scowling librarian telling me to run after him instead of making noises with my mouth.

    “We’ll hold your books here at the counter while you run after your son.”

    I ignored her, called once more, and sure enough Jason came back. Grumbly, to be sure, but back he came. And I continued ignoring the frown of disapproval said librarian gave me.

    Because, you see, there are two ways the scenario could have played out.

    Scenario A: I do as she suggested, and chase after him. He immediately thinks it’s a game, like he does every time I’m forced to chase him, and starts running down the stairs while he laughs his ass off. I get frustrated because he’s a slippery little bugger, and far quicker than I am. I finally catch him at an estimated 2 or 3 minutes later. He’s in trouble for disobeying. I’m pissed off that I had to chase him for so long. He doesn’t get to go to the children’s library, because we don’t reward bad behaviour, and he doesn’t get his ice cream treat when he gets home.

    Scenario B: I continue training him to respond to verbal commands, make him choose to come back instead of inadvertently turning it into the chasing game from hell’s seventh layer. I get my books. Jason gets his visit to the children’s library. And when we get home, he gets his ice cream.

    Everyone’s happy.

    Except, apparently, the librarian.

    “But Mrs. Carroll, this is a library.”

    So?

    I hold books in esteem, but going to where they’re housed in mass quantity does not mean I view it as a sacred space. Unless I’m badly mistaken, no druid laid the cornerstones on the eve of Midsummer when all the stars were in the correct alignment in the heavens. No priest blessed and consecrated the steps leading up to the non-fiction section, and no technoshaman sent a benevolent organizational daemon into the online catalogue.

    Books are not some distant god to worship. They’re friends. They’re occasionally enemies. They’re informative and entertaining and evocative and innovative. Or boring and confusing and disturbing. Hold them in esteem. Be fond of them.

    Don’t fucking worship them.

    And don’t worship libraries either.

    Stepping into a library should invoke a sense of excitement, for all the worlds you’re about to visit. You shouldn’t live in fear of a scowly-faced crone with frizzy hair coming down on you with all the righteous wrath of the wronged (say that three times fast), finger to lips and a SHUSH ready to fire.

    This is a library.

    And I say again, so?

    I wasn’t being obnoxious. I wasn’t yelling at the top of my lungs. I wasn’t even disturbing anyone else, because it had just opened and no one else was there. I called out to my son, to make sure he stayed where he needed to stay, in my line of sight.

    And I got shushed.

    Frowned at.

    Chastised.

    People wonder why no one goes to libraries as often as they used to. Well, this is it right here. Or part of it, anyway.

    Libraries are too quiet. Too mysterious. Too sanctified and exalted in our heads. Can’t have the iPod up too loud – past like, 3 – because it’s dead quiet in the place and we don’t want to bother the person browsing the books three aisles down with the rap and the hip hop. Can’t go with a friend, because conversations above a whisper are too loud. Can’t bring your kids, because they stomp and laugh and need to be reminded to stay in one place.

    I’m exaggerating, of course.

    Or am I?

    Libraries are not sacred spaces. They’re not houses of the hallowed. And they’re certainly not places of worship.

    They’re places of knowledge and education and entertainment. Places where discourse and discussion and socialization could and should occur. Places to hold in high esteem, perhaps. And most definitely places to enjoy and have fun.

    They’re not churches.

    Can we stop treating them like they are already?

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    August 9th, 2010 | terribleminds | 38 Comments

About The Author

ChuckWendig

Chuck Wendig is equal parts novelist, screenwriter, and game designer. He is the author of the novels DOUBLE DEAD, BLACKBIRDS, and MOCKINGBIRD. In addition, he's got a metric boatload of writing-related e-books available, including the popular 500 WAYS TO BE A BETTER WRITER. He currently lives in the wilds of Pennsyltucky with wife, dog, and newborn progeny.

38 Responses and Counting...

  • Eric 08.09.2010

    I’ve gotta say that I like the quiet of my local library. That’s not to say that I agree with the stern librarian shushing you for communicating with your child. My son’s syndrome and disabilities leave us faced with strange looks and inappropriate advice from people who don’t even know us, so I understand your frustration.

    Not being the church going sort myself, I relish my time of peace and quiet in the library but I also think that it can be a place filled with the laughter of playing children as well as lively discussion and debate of anything from books to politics. I love my library and if giving up my precious silence meant that more of my community were coming in and using its services that can only be for the betterment of us all.

    I guess I’m lucky. I haven’t (yet) had any bad experiences with the librarians in my neck of the woods. Nor have I ever left my branch annoyed or distracted by noise, even after a full elementary school class traipsed through while I tried to catch up on some reading.

  • When I was in high school I got kicked out of the library for a week because I had opened the daily paper, read the Calvin and Hobbes strip where Calvin puts his naked self in the toilet, flushes, and yells, “WHEEE!!” while swirling around in circles, and laughed my fucking ass off. Loudly. The bitch grabbed me by the arm and told me that due to my behavior I was banned for a week. I told her not to leave the comics page in the paper if she didn’t want people to laugh.

    You are far more polite than I would have been. I would have leaned over and given that woman the exact scenario you just described, and told her why, and then told her to get her head out of her ass.

  • I am a big fan of having a public space that demands quiet. I don’t think there is anything sacred about it, but I like to study in libraries, and I often encounter folks letting their cell phones ring and talking on their cell phones – and I think that is the rudest of the rude.

    Its not about respecting books, its about respecting people and an environment devoted to reading and studying. I just think that kind of space is vital in this day and age – there are so many other places to go where you can just be loud as you want without concern for others.

    That said, the libraries I visit make a lot of exceptions for kids, and I think thats great. They have their own section with all kinds of good things going on. I also know libraries that have cafe areas for both teens and adults – areas where one is encouraged to be social. I think thats great too.

    But the core of the library is still reading and studying, so having someone policing the environment is welcome to me. In my mind, it isn’t too quiet. Too mysterious. Too sanctified and exalted, but rather too important a space to let dissolve into just another commercial space where anything goes.

  • “I won’t mention which one here, since Wendig bows to Our Apple Overlords…”

    Yes, me and my one Apple product and my room full of PCs. Pshhh.

    Anyway.

    Libraries.

    I worked at a library for a number of years, not in the Book Cave itself, but rather, in the upstairs offices doing marketing and other fiddly tasks.

    I really enjoyed it.

    Libraries right now are in the midst of a schism, and for me I feel like it’s a schism that will help decide if they sink or swim: libraries are having to become about more than just books. They have to be community centers, places where the locals can come to learn and be entertained. Mostly the latter.

    What this means, though, is that this schism is represented internally, too — you have library staff who understand it’s time for Libraries 2.0, but you also have staff (to be frank, usually older folks) who want it to be like the Old Days.

    They’re wrong, of course, but I’m sympathetic to the notion: libraries *did* used to be sacred spaces, not merely because books were a fondness but because it was a place people came to *read.* And reading sometimes meant researching. And researching and reading necessitated a quiet space.

    So, I get it. It makes sense — at least, in a different world. The Internet has changed that, and the Internet has changed libraries.

    Ideally, libraries will be big enough to have a “quiet space” where people can still go to research and read, because the Internet is not the perfect Research Machine. Alternately, we’ll maybe see a rise of academic libraries, but I doubt it — finances don’t support them. Hell, finances aren’t supporting libraries in general right now.

    Which means your concerns could become moot. No money, no libraries.

    The best way to get your libraries upgraded in mind-set is to campaign for a new library system head who is a bit progressive.

    But you’ll still have those librarians who remember different days. And while that’s a dinosaur attitude, I get it — they see a slippery slope where suddenly the library is a playground, loud and raucous, with video games and running and parents yelling. I’m sympathetic to that, because though books are not sacred, I still want the library to *be* a library — but the definition of “library” needs to go through some thought revisions.

    Great post, thanks!

    – c.

  • @Andrew: One of the best libraries I ever visited was one in the States. I can’t remember which one now. It was either in DC or Orlando. They had a Reading Room set aside, a large room with comfortable furniture and tables where people could go where quiet was enforced. They could study there, or read, without fear of being interrupted by loud noises, or running children or so on. I’m not suggesting that libraries become raucous free-for-alls with pounding music and breakdance competitions in between the mystery and the romance stacks. :) I just think that the strict, stern SHHHHH mindset could be relaxed a little.

  • I completely disagree. Libraries absolutely should, nay, must, have breakdancing competitions.

  • @Julie: I know, right? Let me give my darling son exactly what he wants. That’ll turn out well for everyone.

  • @Chuck:

    Here in my hometown, Koszalin, we have a library you would probably like then. While there is still a lot of space designated as quiet space, it also has a a movie theater, book club areas and an art gallery. There is also a conference room where many events take place.

    No children’s playpen, but that’s because the building was built during the People’s Republic era. I think they want to convert one of the room’s for that, but for now they just use the cinema and conference room to organise kids’ activities, especially during summertime.

    And in my college town, Kraków, municipal library we had a kids library, a fantasy club, computer rooms, BYO laptop computer rooms a bar and loads of events. The academical library in turn was crap. Like you wouldn’t believe. Had to travel 2 hours by train to a town where it wasn’t.

    Ooh, and while I was in London, my local library was double awesome: it was small, but had a kids section with their own sitters and tutors if you were in the library to do a computer course, for example.

    The thing is, these libraries WERE designed as community centres from the beginning and were given the appropriate funding for that. Kraków is one of the cultural centres of Poland, so they couldn’t mess up; London is, well, London and even in Koszalin the library was designed as the intellectual centre of the region back in commie days (back when we had 40 something voivodships instead of the 16 we have now).

    I personally do not mind the background chatter in libraries as long as the “no cellphone conversations” rule is enforced. People somehow always know how to behave in a library when they are not holding a cell.

  • “People somehow always know how to behave in a library when they are not holding a cell.”

    I’d like to run with this and add that people often know how to behave anywhere in public when they are not holding a cell.

    @Maggie People in general seem to base their reactions to children only on what they’ve experienced in their own lives. Many people seem to watch and think, “I can’t believe the parents are allowing that,” when they have no clue if there are any factors aside from straight up disobedience involved.

    Our library in our new county is so tiny that there is no way to avoid disturbing anyone. The entire interior is about the size of our house, and everything is on top of everything else. The back of the children’s shelves are the border for the study area. In this case what I’ve noticed is that folks are ok with it, because you work with what you have.

  • I’m just going to be contrary for a second.

    The library I grew up with in Cohoes, NY is a sacred space. Converted old catholic church with rectory and bell towers and confessionals and pretty (if creepy windows). And a random nun or two from the new church down the street.

    But otherwise, I agree. If I’m in that much need of quiet with a book, I’ll check it out and take it home. The libraries here are a lot like Chuck’s Library 2.0. They’re hubs of children’s activities and classes. It’s not helped by the fact that they’re small (one being IN the middle school up the road). Really, if you want something specific or need to do on-site research, you hop over to one of the university’s half dozen libraries. Now there’s a definite no noise policy there – though that’s to keep those wacky college kiddos in line. I’ve never seen a kid in a campus library, even the children’s library.

  • I worked in a library for 3 years in HS as a library page and then went on to get my MIS in Library and Information Science. My mother is also a librarian. I have to say I have always enjoyed the quiet of a library but now that I have two small boys it is tricky to maintain the silence. I guess the question comes down to whether libraries should be treated like bookstores or like museums. There are parallels to both. The most successful libraries I have seen generally have a seperate section for the kids area and it is expected that kids will make noise in their area.

    The trick is when you want to browse books for yourself and have to haul the kids along instead of leaving them in the children’s section by themselves. It is impossible to keep them quiet through out the rest of the library. I agree that the librarian who told you how to deal with your son was out of line, but I think that librarians are accustomed to thinking of their “sacred space” as more of a museum, and not a friendly children’s museum but one where you are not supposed to touch anything. That is diametrically opposed to what books are about, and libraries are supposed to be about, though, isn’t it. You are encouraged to pick out books and look at them and check them out. To interact with the books and the space. However there is the expectation that the books will be respected, and I think this expectation gets carried over to the behavior of the patrons. (And that is the rub, isn’t it, “patron”, defined by Websters as “a person who is a customer, client, or paying guest, esp. a regular one, of a store, hotel, or the like. ” Libraries are funded by tax dollars so patrons should have some say in how their libraries are run.)

    That being said I agree with Wendig’s comment that libraries need to evolve. This isn’t a new idea in the library community, I had to take courses on marketing and how to write a business plan and community outreach when I was getting my library science degree, and that was 15 years ago. It is funny, I don’t remember any course that taught that you had to be quiet in libraries, at least public libraries. That librarian who yelled at you was thinking short term – we need people to use the libraries or they will lose funding and close. Libraries should be community spaces, absolutely, but personally I can’t stand loud noises when I read and appreciate the quiet of the library, so I see both sides. And it probably is a generational issue.

    In my ideal world the public libraries that lend general, mass market fiction would be more relaxed but not tolerate excessively bad/noisy behavior on the part of children oustide of the children’s area (not that I am saying this what your son was doing, by any means). However, I think academic libraries and libraries that hold rare or fragile books have every right to place restraints on behavior. I can’t see taking my kids to that type of library anyway. So eh. Some libraries are sacred space by the nature of what type of materials they hold (rare/fragile), but in the way a museum is sacred spce, not in the way a church is sacred sapce (IMO). Those libraries where you can’t; check anything out of the building do require quiet so people can transcribe or copy or read what they need to for their research. It is a mistake to think all libraries need to be this way however.

    The idea of librarian as high priestess makes me cringe and think of the beginnings of a bad fantasy novel. However, I will say in watching an episode of Blues Clues I was very offended when Steve and Blue were discussing different jobs and Steve said “A librarian checks out books”. No, Steve, librarians do a lot more than that, they determine what types of books to order, what programs to run/schedule, how to most effectively interact with their community – and that can obviously be different from one community to another, depending on demographics, and it should be, and the librarians should be keeping track of the demographics of their patrons – what they read, what they check out, whether it trends to empty nesters or youngish parents with small children. The type of library experience that is offered should be based on these types of criteria, if only to maintain a high satisfaction rate among patrons. To continue my analogy I would equate a librarian to a docent type of position.

    And I have to say, I may be a librarian by trianing but I am not an old and frizzly-haired crone. I hate that stereotype. However I do wear a bun. And glasses. And I have cats. And I wear funky but sensible shoes with skirts. I don’t knit though, so that is something. Sterotypes exist for a reason and I guess I am one of them, oopsy. But I rock that A-line skirt and clogs look, let me tell you.

    Sorry if this was a ramble, I have a lot of thoughts on libraries having spent most of the first 28 years of my life in them.

  • Heather talks purtier than me.

    I want to touch on something quickly. More important to me regarding libraries is how people treat the books and materials they contain. I was raised that those books are not my property, that they need to be handled with care, and that I needed to return them in the condition I found them.

    I’m amazed at the condition of books these days. Food stains, tears, broken spines, FOOD STAINS…

    Good lord they beat into my head that you don’t eat or drink while reading a library book.

    Anyway, even if the library isn’t hallowed ground it is a collection of property belonging to everyone and should be treated as such.

  • JB

    If you don’t have the time to devote to your special needs child, you really have no business taking it to the library. I don’t care that “raising your child to respond to verbal cues”. Until you’ve got that kid trained to respond every time, don’t take it to places where there is an expectation of silence.

    I’m with the librarian on this one. You don’t speak above a whisper in a library. We’ve all known this since we were children. Maybe you should teach this to your kid, and the world will be a better place.

  • Some quick thoughts now that the movers are (miraculously) complete –

    Great comments.

    Seems to me that really, libraries need to walk a line –

    Libraries are best when they entertain and educate, when they retain a special, magical aura without resorting to a sacred hush-hush Temple of Silence.

    I think those who think that libraries are going to deviate into howling maelstroms of screaming child chaos (versus the Temple of Silence) are suffering under the delusions of a false dichotomy: you can have a library that isn’t a romper room but also doesn’t demand that visitors’ tongues be cut out. You can still have a respectful, even magical space without it resorting to an indoor playground.

    Of course, the issue there is that you’ll have librarians interpreting this how they feel — the term “activist judge” could be rephrased as “activist librarian” in this case. We had them in our library system: they felt that a certain sacred standard was important, and so they upheld it regardless of the official “rules.” The library was designed to be an open community space, to encourage meeting and communication, but some still treated it like it was a mortuary.

    Rambling, over.

    Great post.

    Again, let’s hope that libraries even *survive* the next ten years. Many think the Internet has killed the library, and this is a deadly meme.

    – c.

  • JB –

    Children, special needs or no, are not robots who respond to a perfectly preset program. Expecting children to not act like children — again, regardless of whether they’re autistic or ADHD or whatever — is ludicrous. Yes, parents need to be parents, but I see no indication that Maggie did anything but be a parent — *the* parent — to her child. The librarian is not that child’s parent, and shouldn’t act like it.

    Further, whispering is good for academic libraries.

    Elsewhere, that attitude needs to change, unless you want to be comfortable with the notion of libraries jogging toward the grave.

    Finally, please be respectful to the poster. Thanks.

    – c.

  • Six different knee-jerks comments I want to make, but I refuse to turn this blog into the rest of the internet.

  • @JB: Lemme guess, hardcore child-free? While I respect your right to have an opinion, you quite obviously know very little about children, and display a hostility towards them that I, personally, do not appreciate.

    Children are not “its”, no matter how much you dislike them.

    @Julie: I’m in agreement with the “this is not your book” mindset. I’m trying to teach that to the boys, who are fairly hard on their own books. I keep drumming in “this isn’t yours, we borrowed it, but we have to treat it gently”; I’m getting mixed results. :)

  • @Rick:

    You are wise. And, frankly, wiser than I. Sometimes I can’t help fling poo.

    – c.

  • @Rick-

    You are also a better person than I am.

    @Chuck-

    Thank you.

  • @Rick -

    Exactly what Julie said. Geez. The nerve of some people.

  • I forgot to mention: my particular public library is in my city’s Arts & Culture Center. The library itself is separate from the theater, the dance studio, the art gallery, the pseudo-cafe and is connected to the Children’s Library via an elevator and a stairwell.

    But they don’t really do a whole lot. Sure, there’s a couple of courses on how to operate iTunes (so not kidding about that) and a knitting circle for an hour Tuesday afternoons (also not kidding on that), but otherwise, it’s pretty much a place just to go and take out books/DVDs/CDs/etc, use the computer and then leave again.

    I compare the public library to the university library, when I was a student, and I can’t help but think that the academic library is somewhat more modernized, with every floor having quiet rooms and group study areas set aside from folks using the oft-noisy copiers and printers, discussing their various texts and trying not to topple over from the huge stack of books they need for their term papers.

    Our public library has no designated “quiet space”, which is unfortunate. It has no air conditioning, so there’s a dozen fans on the first floor alone in a bid to try and circulate air. Windows are opened to the street below, which is just up the road from the university and just down the hill from the epicenter of provincial government. The road itself is one of the major thoroughfares of the city, and feeds two or three frequent bus stops.

    The noise levels in that library have more contributing factors than parents and kids, or too-loud iPods or the odd conversation.

  • I love what my university library has done; they’ve recently put in a large section no more than a few metres walk from the books that’s full of beanbags, couches and tables. It’s all colour and noise. People can sit around, read, study, chat, argue, whatever. They’ve even got whiteboards all ’round for people to use. Eating’s allowed, and pretty much encouraged. It’s got a really great atmosphere, and has completely changed the library for the better.

    I know feel like going out of my way to spend time there, reading and studying and spending time with friends.

    The biggest complaint I’ve heard is that sometimes people take naps on the beanbags. And honestly, I really don’t mind.

  • @Andrew:

    “Eating” was the next hurdle for libraries, beyond “noise.” Some libraries abhor eating in their space — others embrace it, going so far as putting cafes and snack machines there.

    I’m of the opinion that anything that helps bring people in the door is a good thing, these days. And, food can be a small revenue stream for the library to help fund itself.

    Right now, local libraries are held aloft by grants and donors — they lost all gov’t money, from what I understand.

    – c.

  • @JB – Holy shit, did you actually just refer to children as “its?” Wow.

    In general: My local library has a little play space for kiddos, with a lot of toys encouraging pretend play. And situated right next to the kids’ books, which of course is smart planning. I have to physically extract my son occasionally, but he’s two. The lure of the plastic veggies is just too much sometimes. :)

  • It’s great that libraries are opening themselves to more mixed usage, and including locations where quiet is not so important. If you’re lucky enough to have such a library, take full advantage of the opportunities presented.

    If you’re not, then be respectful of the people who may be there to work. True, someone there to read can take the book out, but why is his right to have a quiet place to read less important than another’s right to make noise? There are also students working, who need to go from book to book, follow referenc3e trails, and use reference books that can’t leave the library. They’re entitled to the same courtesy.

    There are plenty of places in the world where you can make all the noise you want. Let’s show a little consideration for on of the few remaining places where peace and quiet are virtues.

    (Please note: I am deliberately not addressing how to handle children in a library. That’s a different discussion, and much harder to pull off. All children will misbehave from time to time; the rest of us have to get over it. However, any parent who does not have a reasonable expectation their child will not meet a reasonable standard of behavior should be sensitive to those who have come to the library with a reasonable expectation of some quiet. )

  • It’s not about some strawman of “Sacredness”. There are lots and lots of people trying to read and study, and several of them are doing so in the only quiet space they have available to them. Having children (or adults!) running around and yelling their heads off disrupts that, and it’s selfish and stupid to assume that your child should be permitted to do so. Incidental noise is one thing; uncontrolled and unsupervised children is quite another. Most libraries these days have quiet areas and areas where more boisterous behavior is acceptable.

    The librarian was wrong to yell at you- the circulation area is the last area that should be designated as quiet, right behind the children’s area- but going from “a librarian shushed me” to “libraries should host carnivals in the stacks” is dumb and over-reacting.

  • @Pope: Uh, what? Selfish? Stupid? Uncontrolled, unsupervised children? Lots and lots of people trying to read and study? Did you even read my post? Because none of that applies to that particular situation.

    And I don’t see where anyone seriously suggested that we move Barnum & Bailey or the Ringling Bros. into the stacks.

  • Maggs,

    Nice. Kids need to be shown the love of a library if we want to see less of them closed–and I sure do. I vote that libraries use their oft unused meeting rooms for reading rooms. Big chairs, soft light a pebble fountain. Where the books live should be exciting; like books.

    @JB: I’m trying to give your thoughts headspace but once you call ANY CHILD “it” you invalidate much of what I’m sure you thought was important to say. Speaking as a guy who was once thought to have both mental and physical impairments, ALL children have special needs and require understanding and aid to adjust. As do some adults, I’ll note.

    K

  • Wow. It looks like some of the people who commented on Chuck’s PC gaming piece over at The Escapist have followed him home. Such is the price of fame, I guess.

    Maggie, way to go! You have a lot love of for your child and a lot of faith in him. That will take your family far.

  • @Darren: She’d better have lots of love and faith, cause she has to undo how badly I fuck them up :)

  • @Rick – Ah, a Dad’s role defined by an expert.

  • I do enjoy the quiet of a library. It seems there are so few places that are quiet anymore.

    However, I agree that libraries need to evolve to survive. I think the dedicated kids’ area is great as well as cafe areas (though I haven’t seen those yet). Perhaps libraries need to have a dedicated quiet area that is away from the general area. Get your book, go to the quiet area to read/study.

    As far as JB goes, obvious troll is obvious.

  • With all due respect, this isn’t a post about the Library 2.0 vs. Old Network divide. It’s about what is and isn’t acceptable at the library.

    My brother and his wife are librarians – beyond that, they’re library advocates. Both of them work at public libraries, where they both run programs designed for community interaction. My sis-in-law runs computer literacy programs for people who desperately need to update their computer skills; my brother runs Wii time for seniors that gets people out of the house and active, as well as a number of reading programs for local high schools. You may also have heard about a librarian who stood up and questioned an improper request to pull a book about growing up gay, a case which is now becoming a battle between the gay rights groups and ACLU against Glenn Beck’s 9/12 movement. That’s my brother too. The good guy questioning censorship, that is, not the Glenn Beck drone.

    That said, I also get to hear what they deal with all the time, and frankly it’s disgraceful. Perhaps because it’s a public building, people seem to believe that librarians are their servants and that library rules don’t apply “because I’m a taxpayer, dammit!” Here’s a sample of the behavior they deal with every single day:

    * People come in and drop off their kids, apparently expecting the librarians to look after them while they go run some errands, have an affair, cook some meth or whatever the hell they do when they leave their kids behind.

    * People come in and use the computers to view and download hardcore pornography, regardless of library guidelines forbidding that activity. Not only that, but they will return repeatedly unless somehow legally blocked (which is difficult).

    * People listen to music too loudly, despite repeated requests from other patrons or library staff. Some even bring iPod speakers and put them out on the table, then get indignant when asked to follow the policy.

    * Students frequently come in expecting the librarians to do everything but write their papers for them

    * Before people jump on the “quiet” rules as anachronistic, remember that this is a public space. They go with the standard that satisfies the most people when it comes to enjoying the material of the library. Maybe you can read just fine while people nearby are talking, listening to music, whatever. Good for you, but it’s not about just you. Quiet suits the most people, which means it’s the standard. It’s practical, not priggish (though its enforcement can be). If your library already has problems due to the fact that it needs fans and open windows, then it makes sense they’re strict about patron noise – they’re already fighting an uphill battle.

    None of this means a librarian was entitled to give you grief, but try to see the situation from their perspective too. If someone walked into your place of business and broke a rule, then immediately did it again after you asked them not to, how would you respond? Nobody likes being ignored right to their face, and because they’re not in your head, the logical conclusion is that the other person is being rude.

    Sure, *you* know that you’re not a bad parent, that chasing your kid physically just turns it into a game and you’re better off calling to him – but how exactly is the librarian supposed to know all that? What they know is that someone has a hyperactive child who ran off a little ways, and the parent just ignored their request to not call out after their child and called after them again, even when you offered to hold on to your books. I’m not saying all librarians or even this librarian are misunderstood angels, but it seems to me like both of you were a little bit rude in this situation.

  • People come in and drop off their kids, apparently expecting the librarians to look after them while they go run some errands, have an affair, cook some meth or whatever the hell they do when they leave their kids behind.

    I was one of those kids, actually. Every time my mom drove into town over the summer I’d ask to come along so I could hang out at the library and read while she was running errands. It was pretty much the only place in the entire town that I could sit and read by myself: at home my little brothers were a constant annoyance, and my parents weren’t really happy about leaving me anywhere else on my own recognizance. I suspect in retrospect that the librarians kept a wary eye on me, but at the time I thought I was totally on my own. The trick was that I knew if I misbehaved, I’d have embarrassed my parents, and I wouldn’t be allowed back.

    It may have been rude of my mother, but it was an invaluable part of my childhood — for that matter, all those Asimov books might have had something to do with getting into robotics.

  • Hey, I’m not saying that there can’t be exceptions to rules, especially marvelous ones like this. I think it’s awesome that the library was that kind of place for you – it’s what it should be for a lot more people. Unfortunately, this sort of case is very much the exception now, and that just makes me sad.

  • Oh, I don’t doubt that there are horror stories behind the example. Otherwise it wouldn’t have occurred to you to mention it. :)

  • Mom

    I get what you all are saying. And I agree to a certain degree. I loved the library and introduced Maggie & her brother to it many years ago. I’m very happy that Maggie got the reading bug from me, her brother….not so much. Mostly I suspect because he has ADHD and had trouble sitting still. So I have experience dealing with unruly kids….not that Maggie herself was a perfect angel, but well, that’s a whole other post.

    The point is Jason has special needs and while teaching him (he’s 4) to respect both his mother’s authority and library rules takes time, there are going to be instances when teaching him to respond to verbal cues takes precedence. I applaud Maggie sticking to her guns on not chasing Jason (I’ve seen that boy run!), I have to say that the librarian was also correct.

    There seems to be a communication breakdown between both adults. Mags, do you think that maybe after giving Jason his first verbal cues, you could have quickly and quietly explained what you were doing and why? Maybe then you wouldn’t have gotten the looks, and the librarian wouldn’t have decided you were rude. I’m sure that the librarian is not so stuck in the past as it seems she had no understanding of the situation.

    Just a thought from another Mom. (Good writing, kiddo. It’s always a pleasure and proud moment when I read your shit, lol)

  • [...] Libraries are not sacred spaces I always found it interesting that there were not more conversations in libraries. Besides [...]

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