Learning Today, Leading Tomorrow: Why Student Library Patrons are Tomorrow's Leaders

ALA Leadership Institute, Winter 2014

I saw a video today of a young child posing the question, “Why would anyone want to go there?” in response to a statement that people went to libraries to first use computers because they weren’t economical to own personally. It was meant to be humorous. Everyone laughed. Even I chuckled. I know the intent, but I admit I felt a sting of sadness.

It’s disheartening that a child so young—traditionally the time in life when libraries are loved most—would question the pleasures afforded her through the library. Why would she love the library? Because nowhere else can she ride on a giant red dog, partake in mischief with a curious monkey, or go to school with a cool cat wearing colored shoes and big groovy buttons—all for free. In a society that largely fails to celebrate childhood, that a child anywhere should miss out on feeling the warm embrace of her librarian’s smile as she opens the door to wonder, imagination, and enchantment is a grave misfortune to me…and one worthy of a moment’s silence…and a call to action.

 At the end of the day—at the end of the sting and the sadness—that little girl’s question left me empowered. Our district rallies around librarians because they know we’re important. I impact student learning because I have the privilege of welcoming every kid—every time. In my library, kids matter because they’re kids—not because they’re elected, not because they perform, not because they’re good at fill-in-the-blank. Rita Pierson said, “No significant learning takes place without a significant relationship.” I have nothing but relationship to offer kids—relationship to others, relationship to resources, relationship to knowledge, and relationship to success.

My kids become tomorrow’s leaders because my kids learn today that they make a difference. Without student patrons, school libraries cease to be important; without tomorrow’s leaders, school libraries become purposeless. My kids become tomorrow’s leaders because they learn today that even if they don’t have the answer, someone somewhere does—an author, a tweeter, a blogger, a journalist—and I teach them how to seek out that information. I teach them to navigate the mangled portals of today’s information highways. My kids become tomorrow’s leaders because in my library they learn today that everybody belongs, everybody makes a difference, everybody has a purpose. In my library, no one’s judging, no one’s grading, no one’s scoring; everyone’s welcome.

According to the International Society for Technology in Education (ISTE) website, “Simply being able to use technology is no longer enough. Today's students need to be able to use technology to analyze, learn and explore. Digital age skills are vital for preparing students to work, live and contribute to the social and civic fabric of their communities.” ISTE offers six standards for 21st century students: creativity and innovation; communication and collaboration; research and information fluency; critical thinking, problem solving, and decision making; digital citizenship; and technology operations and concepts. My library offers opportunities for students to explore each facet of 21st century learning. So in answer to why would anyone want to go to the library…“To learn today, little girl, to lead tomorrow. Come to the library to learn to lead.”

Library Revelation

In the graduate student compartment of my life, last week was finals week for an incredibly intense, longer-than-eight-weeks-should-ever-be summer school session. One comprehensive exam loomed before me (yes, dear readers, those do STILL exist), and all I wanted to do was change my name from “Mommy” and bury my head in my books—or notes—as it were. Unfortunately, I was overruled by my Little Misters, and so “Mommy” I remained.

Monday came and went. One day down; nothing accomplished. After finally conquering bedtime, Hubs and I sat on the couch—our typical battle ground—determined to devise a strategy to ensure victory over that blasted ball-o-stress.  This is what Operation Slay-That-Test looked like:

Hubs: I’ll come home as early as I can tomorrow, and you can…study.

Me: Questioning look, as visions of myself barricaded in my bedroom with the Little Misters chanting “Mommy! Mommy! Moooooommy!” grappling with the child lock on the doorknob played in my head.

Hubs: Maybe you could go somewhere…somewhere where you can just make a nest with everything you need and have a study session.

Me: I guess I could go to Barnes and Noble.

Hubs: There’s really a lot of distraction there for you.

Me: Ugh…yeah…I guess.

Silence. 

Hubs: Too bad there’s not like a library or something you could go to.

And there it was. Battle plan devised. Victory assured.

He wasn’t even being snarky, but I was fairly ashamed that it was the Hubs that thought of the library and not his Teacher-Librarian wife, but a good idea is a good idea, and his was stellar!

Tuesday night found me rounding the corner to the campus library, greeted by the beautiful and overwhelming sound of silence. When I walked in, the faces of half my class greeted me, sheer determination in their eyes. They were there—all of them—with a shared purpose and an individual mission. They were there together, but each alone—two on desktop computers (a row apart), two on personal laptops (one with headphones attached), and one in a private study carrel. I assumed my own position in their battlefront—a comfy chair and coffee table in the middle of the room. Commence battle…

In the week that followed, I reflected on the significance of that experience as a Teacher-Librarian in today’s world of education. People ask me all the time, “Is the library even relevant anymore?” I always respond with passionate zeal about the resources we provide, the information literacy skills we impart, and the one-stop shop for just about anything anyone might ever need in life. (Did I say I was passionate?)

But last week, I realized the library affords so much more than that. It provides people space to just be—to be alone, to be together, to be alone.together. In the noise of the 21^st century technology-infused educational world, the library teaches respectful use of personal technology in a haven for isolated togetherness. As media progressively infuses more of our students’ lives, authentic connection is lost for Facebook friends and text-message discussions; however, 21^st-century life readiness skills dictate that students “communicate and collaborate” and make meaningful connections between “their futures, their teachers, their parents, their peers, the environment, and the spirit of their school, their community, and their world” (LeButt, n.d.). It’s difficult to teach students effective interpersonal skills without authentic connection, and the library offers an environment rich with resources, brimming with real-world opportunities, and booming with silence big enough to foster connection...and in my view, that’s pretty relevant.

References

Lubutt, C. (n.d.). Empowering your students for the 21^st century. Retrieved from http://www.empoweringyourstudents.com/Home_Page.html