Not All Librarians Are Created Equal

Libraries have long been a large part of my life.  We had a great and active relationship with the library when I was a child.  That was back in the days before automation when our library card had a number we recited to check our books out.

Our family card was 3240-B.  'B' because we lived outside of city limits, as I recall.

It was a great day when I had the privilege of obtaining my own personal library card and number.  6467-B

Yes, more than twenty years after leaving my hometown, I still remember those numbers--perhaps by reason of use.

When Alan and I moved to a small town in Missouri seventeen years ago, I quickly located the library on the square.  The librarian at that time was a delightful lady who always greeted me with a smile, answered my questions, and helped me find books.  When she retired, the new librarian quickly stepped into her friendly and accommodating role.

Over the years, our relationship evolved until I no longer considered her just my local librarian, but my friend.  She was always ready for a chat and a few laughs when I came in, and shared my joy (and even fear) as children were added to our family.  When I started selling Pampered Chef and was rather freaked out at starting the business and finding hosts, she cheerfully opened her home.  She knew my favorite authors, notified me when the next book in a series arrived, and recommended authors she thought I might like.  She encouraged me on my homeschooling journey--not just in word, but also in deed--as she frequently asked what our next unit would be and gathered books on that subject for me for the next time I came in.  If the library didn't have a particular book I was looking for, she ordered it for me more times than I can count.

And she didn't tease me (at least not TOO much) when I checked out the same book for the third or fourth time just because it was such a great book and I wanted to read it again.

Now, admittedly, not all my experiences with librarians have been sunshine and roses.  I also frequented a library in a neighboring town because it was larger and had some resources that benefited our family and we were frequently in that town for other activities.  Many of the librarians there were also a delight, greeting patrons with a smile, gladly reserving books upon request, and renewing books we needed for just a few more days past the due date.  There was a children's librarian, however, who didn't like children.  I've never seen anything like it, and can't understand why she stayed in that position.

But that crabby librarian had nothing on the librarians in my current town of residence.  This is the most unfriendly library I've ever had the misfortune to frequent.  The librarians seem to consider the patrons an inconvenience and are quite put out that we should disturb their day by needing their service to check out our books.  I have yet to see any of them smile.

And may I insert here that I am (generally, anyway) a smiling sort of person.  I've had people tell me my smile is contagious.  I am friendly and outgoing.  I talk to people and I smile at people and I expect them to at least smile back.  They almost always do.  Even tired, grumpy cashiers at the end of their shift respond to my friendly commiseration and assurance that I'm not in a hurry with a smile and small talk.

So, I'm starting to take this personally.  No one there will respond to me.  No one will smile.  cue Twilight Zone music

I should have suspected something at my first visit when I asked if they could give my contact information to a local homeschooler so I could get plugged in.  They responded that they didn't know any homeschoolers.

The local librarian doesn't know any homeschoolers?

She knew there were people who homeschooled, but they tended to stay underground.

They tend to stay underground? Yikes! That sounds ominous. . .not to mention dark.  "Many sink down to the Underworld, and few return to the sunlit lands."  I prefer being an Overworlder, thanks.

I shared this experience with a local homeschooler (who turned out to quite definitely be an Overworlder and not an Earthman at all) this week.  She laughed.  It turns out that members of the quite extensive network of local home educators travel to libraries in surrounding towns because this library is so unfriendly.  At nearby libraries they are not only welcomed with open arms, they are also given extended checkout periods and are allowed to check out large quantities of books.

And most shocking of all, they are greeted with smiles.

So now I'm left with a decision to make.  Do I follow suit and abandon ship with nary a protest?  Or do I write a friendly letter sharing my experience and the explanation for the absence of homeschoolers in their library?  (Shocking  Truly shocking of untold proportions.  No homeschoolers in the library.  I can't get over this).

Or do I take on the challenge to go to the library at least once a week and keep smiling, keep chatting, until these ladies smile back just to get rid of me?