Yesterday was my first stint as an adjunct reference librarian at Consumnes River College, another of the four colleges in the Los Rios Community College District. After teaching at Sacramento City College for around twenty years, I was eager to see what another of the Los Rios schools was like.
Surprisingly, it was a wonderful experience, and I think this semester there will be wonderful. I'm surprised because I thought I'd be a fish out of water--unable to cope with the questions or students since I don't really have a grasp on where everything is on campus, what each group does, and where to refer students. In fact, CRC is very similar to SCC in student population and beginning of semester questions asked.
A loose chronicle of the good, bad, and the ugly; the yin and yang; the application of RUSA rules whether the library patron wants me to or not...Welcome to the library! How may I help you?
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Monday, January 11, 2010
Adding to this blog...
As you can see on the right, I've added a couple of things to this blog: LibraryThing and PaperbackSwap. (Don't you just love how spaces between words seem to disappear with technology?)
So far I've list a few of my favorite books on LibraryThing and plan to add more as time allows. You can link to LibraryThing by clicking on the covers and read others' reviews of the books. Should even more time allow, I'll add my own reviews.
PaperbackSwap is a wonderful way to acquire PB books. I've belonged almost from the beginning and have been really, really happy with them. If you're a reading junkie, it's a way to manage your habit without bankrupting you.
So far I've list a few of my favorite books on LibraryThing and plan to add more as time allows. You can link to LibraryThing by clicking on the covers and read others' reviews of the books. Should even more time allow, I'll add my own reviews.
PaperbackSwap is a wonderful way to acquire PB books. I've belonged almost from the beginning and have been really, really happy with them. If you're a reading junkie, it's a way to manage your habit without bankrupting you.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Saturdays in the library
All jobs have their ebb and flow. Some parts of the year are busy, some slower. The longer a person's in the job, the more familiar she gets with the rhythms. Finding one's feet as a librarian is dancing in tune to the library's rhythm.
Saturdays at all the public libraries where I've worked were always the busiest days. School-aged children were intent on getting their homework done, their parents beside them either helping or hindering. Adults roamed the new book shelves and the video racks, eager for something to spark their interest.
Some Saturdays were so busy that we ended up putting older books on the new book shelves because all the new books had been checked out a half hour to hour after we opened.
At my local public library (Belle Cooledge Branch of the Sacramento Public Library) I've noticed Saturdays have brought out the turtle club, the gardeners' clubs, and other groups who use the community room to have sales or clinics.
All in all, I've noticed that Saturday is still a happening day at my branch of the public library.
Saturdays at all the public libraries where I've worked were always the busiest days. School-aged children were intent on getting their homework done, their parents beside them either helping or hindering. Adults roamed the new book shelves and the video racks, eager for something to spark their interest.
Some Saturdays were so busy that we ended up putting older books on the new book shelves because all the new books had been checked out a half hour to hour after we opened.
At my local public library (Belle Cooledge Branch of the Sacramento Public Library) I've noticed Saturdays have brought out the turtle club, the gardeners' clubs, and other groups who use the community room to have sales or clinics.
All in all, I've noticed that Saturday is still a happening day at my branch of the public library.
Friday, January 8, 2010
Reading Jumanji
Chris Van Allsburg's Jumanji is one of those wonderful children's books which sparks the imagination when read aloud and which was ruined by being made into a major motion picture.
It's one thing to imagine a lion in one's house or the gang of monkeys in one's kitchen--in fact any child who's seen a nature documentary can fill in the blanks wonderfully well!--but the fun and adventure are sadly missing when one actually sees the ferocious lion or the evil-looking monkeys.
Is the lion that ferocious in a child's mind? Or is the lion more lost and confused? Are the monkeys evil? Or are they more rambunctous and child-like in their curiousity as they encounter the pots and pans?
The beauty of reading is that the reader and the listeners can make up their own minds. No one is dictating
It's one thing to imagine a lion in one's house or the gang of monkeys in one's kitchen--in fact any child who's seen a nature documentary can fill in the blanks wonderfully well!--but the fun and adventure are sadly missing when one actually sees the ferocious lion or the evil-looking monkeys.
Is the lion that ferocious in a child's mind? Or is the lion more lost and confused? Are the monkeys evil? Or are they more rambunctous and child-like in their curiousity as they encounter the pots and pans?
The beauty of reading is that the reader and the listeners can make up their own minds. No one is dictating
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Charles Starkweather, serial killer
When I was growing up in Lincoln, Nebraska, Charlie Starkweather was our garbage man, and when he went on his killing spree, our neighborhood took it personally and was scared out of its mind.
Until I worked at the Northeast Branch of the Lincoln Public Library, these facts were just something relegated to my childhood memories.
But in the summer of 1968, I worked as the substitute head librarian at the branch while Sammie, the branch's librarian, had her baby.
Northeast was a classic one-room Carnegie library with stained glass windows, a place that reminded me of being in a cathedral when the sun slanted through the windows in the late afternoon. Standing at the librarian's desk and looking straight through the main door, the librarian had the children's area to the right and the adult's area to the left.
Until I worked at the Northeast Branch of the Lincoln Public Library, these facts were just something relegated to my childhood memories.
But in the summer of 1968, I worked as the substitute head librarian at the branch while Sammie, the branch's librarian, had her baby.
Northeast was a classic one-room Carnegie library with stained glass windows, a place that reminded me of being in a cathedral when the sun slanted through the windows in the late afternoon. Standing at the librarian's desk and looking straight through the main door, the librarian had the children's area to the right and the adult's area to the left.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Hitting the library
Okay, so this really has no bearing on the ref desk per se, but it's a true story centering on my life in and around libraries.
My first car accident occurred when I was a page at the South Branch of the Lincoln (NE) Public Library. I backed into the library from a parking spot.
I thought my father would be furious. Instead he was incredulous, even a little amused.
"How could you hit the library?" he asked. "Was it moving?"
I don't think so. But it would be worse if it was, wouldn't it?
My first car accident occurred when I was a page at the South Branch of the Lincoln (NE) Public Library. I backed into the library from a parking spot.
I thought my father would be furious. Instead he was incredulous, even a little amused.
"How could you hit the library?" he asked. "Was it moving?"
I don't think so. But it would be worse if it was, wouldn't it?
Monday, January 4, 2010
Saga of the Short Classic
This is one of the most vivid memories I have of working the reference desk at Tysons-Pimmit Branch Library in the Fairfax County Library System. (This was way before Tysons was a huge regional library, but when it was housed in two ground-floor apartments in the high-rise complex nearby.)
The English class students at the neighborhood high school had been assigned to read a classic contained on a reading list--not an uncommon assignment for librarians to deal with. We had a copy of the assignment and knew which books were included on the list. To save time, we had pulled many copies of the books from the fiction shelves and had them available near the ref desk.
A sturdy young man walked up to the desk while I was working and asked how he could find the classics.
I was young. What can I say? I was trying to be helpful.
The English class students at the neighborhood high school had been assigned to read a classic contained on a reading list--not an uncommon assignment for librarians to deal with. We had a copy of the assignment and knew which books were included on the list. To save time, we had pulled many copies of the books from the fiction shelves and had them available near the ref desk.
A sturdy young man walked up to the desk while I was working and asked how he could find the classics.
I was young. What can I say? I was trying to be helpful.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
What's the point?
I've been working in libraries my entire life--starting as a page in the 1950s at the Lincoln (NE) Public Library System. In 1969 I read Theodore Roethke's poem "Dolor." The poem changed my life.
Instead of enrolling in library school, I enrolled in the University of Nebraska's education program and then the theater program. Like Roethke, in school and public libraries I'd "seen dust from the walls of institutions,/Finer than flour, alive, more dangerous than silica,/Sift, almost invisible, through long afternoons of tedium." I didn't want my exciting future life to become covered in dust.
But libraries are the opiate of readers. I couldn't stay away.
Instead of enrolling in library school, I enrolled in the University of Nebraska's education program and then the theater program. Like Roethke, in school and public libraries I'd "seen dust from the walls of institutions,/Finer than flour, alive, more dangerous than silica,/Sift, almost invisible, through long afternoons of tedium." I didn't want my exciting future life to become covered in dust.
But libraries are the opiate of readers. I couldn't stay away.