One website that I like to catch up on now and then is Irascible Professor. Dr. Mark Shapiro gives thoughtful insights and commentary on the state of education in our nation; and quite often a guest writer does the same.
Two recent articles written by guest authors addressed the same issue: technology’s intrusion into our libraries. They are strikingly different. Jane Goodwin longs for the quiet library of old and bashes the introduction of singing, beeping, whistling, and otherwise noisy computers and interactive books into our libraries in You Can’t Take That Away From Me. Bevery Lucey welcomes the technology -and all of its sound- with open arms in Liberty and the Librarian.
They are both great reads - take the time to go through them if you have it.
Dr. Shapiro’s website states that he welcomes comments from readers; and after reading these two articles… well, you know me. I’m hardly ever without an opinion, and always ready to write a mini-novel for anyone who’ll bother reading it. 
This is what I sent him:
Dr. Shapiro,
I’ve just read both guest commentaries on the state of our libraries today. How interesting, and how strange that I agree with both of them.
My local library is a very small, cramped building. The actual library space itself, not including the offices and restrooms, could easily fit inside two average-sized living rooms. While there is a handicapped ramp outside of the building, I have never once seen a wheelchair inside of the library; there simply isn’t room to walk, much less maneuver a chair. Into this space they’ve stuffed a number of computers, tables and chairs, an entire DVD collection, and of course, shelves and shelves full of books. As a homeschooling mother, this is a library my children and I frequent; usually during school hours. What a difference we saw a few nights ago, when we went there after public school had let out.
You could not get near a computer for the teens who were busy checking over MySpace profiles - most of which had music and videos that blared out of the headphones that not one teen was wearing. Even the two computers reserved for card catalogue use had been taken over by MySpace enthusiasts, and while we were there for nearly an hour, I could not access the library’s catalogue to look for the list of books I’d come to find. (There is no longer a big wooden card catalogue full of index cards; this was removed to make space for the computers.) These teens were rowdy, obnoxious, and very loud. The librarians, whose checkout desk is a mere ten feet away, did nothing to quell the noise. A number of patrons who had been trying to read simply shelved their books and left in disgust while we were there. Evening hours also brought a new sight for us - a security guard. He sat at one of the tables and flipped through magazines, looking as if he’d like to be anywhere else but our library. Only once during our time there did he remind the teens to keep their voices down; and truly, that’s the librarian’s job so I can’t fault him for not doing it more.
Between the noise, language, and misbehavior of these teens (not to mention what was on their computer screens), my family and I won’t be going back to this library during the evenings.
Contrast this with a library about ten miles from us. This library is gorgeous, inside and out. Five wheelchairs side by side could roll unhampered through the spacious lobby; two could roll together through even the most “cluttered” spaces. This library has multiple floors, all being open to the main “space” in the center of the library, which has a sweeping vaulted ceiling. Yet even within this “open-space” concept, there are exceptions: the children’s room, and the computer room. Both of these are closed off from the other sections by glass windows and doors. The sound from inside of them can only be disruptful to other patrons if the patron is very close to the glass wall, and if the sound is extremely loud. The mere presence of these walls preserves the comfortable silence of the rest of the library, and patrons can read in peace while the teens have their MySpace and the children have their interactive, talking books.
What is the difference? My local library is in a county where the average home sells for $100,000. The bigger library ten miles away is in a county where the average home sells for $500,000. Just a few miles, but what a striking contrast. Not just in our libraries, but also in household incomes, city tax revenues, and most importantly, our schools. Suffice to say that my county’s schools aren’t living up to the new standards set down by the No Child Left Behind Act, while the other county’s schools were accredited the first year. Our little county, so important in the history of Virginia, simply doesn’t have the funds, resources, or the space to move our local library or build onto it. So we suffer; with evening patrons not being able to read in peace and the necessity of a security guard just to make the patrons feel safe.
We are fortunate that technology has come to the libraries of this nation; so many families still do not have the resources to bring a computer and an internet connection into their homes. We’re also fortunate that there are authors and publishers who realize that the pressures of the economy and two-income families don’t leave some parents the time or energy to read to their children, so they make books that do the reading for them. Without either of these, our children would suffer. The world of today demands that teens are familiar with computers, and even the most unfortunate child from an extremely poor household who hardly ever sees her mother can still have a favorite story read to her, thanks to interactive books and audio recordings at the library.
The blame that lies behind Ms. Goodwin’s complaints about today’s library cannot be placed squarely on the library themselves. The times aren’t changing, they have changed already; and this is what we’re left with. Teens who lack the basic concept of how to conduct one’s self in a social setting; children whose parents never read to them due to overburdened work schedules or broken homes. Like a school teacher, a librarian cannot be expected to cure these faults. Yes, perhaps a few more shushings could be in order; but at what point does a librarian, dealing with the same group of kids every evening, simply give up trying? Days? Weeks? Months? If not this group of loud teens, then it would simply be another group; so kicking them out is also of little use.
What cure is there for these problems, that start long before the children and teens ever cross the library’s doorstep? And should we simply turn a blind eye (or in this case, ear) because at least these teens aren’t out on the streets looking for other forms of entertainment?
Unlike Ms. Lucey, I believe that libraries should be rather quiet. After all, the whole purpose of a library was to give a person a place to read. Reading usually requires at least a general level of silence; although steady, unintrusional background noise can be beneficial as well. Today’s technology, however, does not bring with it a “background level” of noise; it brings sharp sounds, music, dings and whistles. If reading during this intrusion of sound were easy, libraries would not supply headphones with their audio players and computers. Getting the patrons to actually *wear* the headphones, however, is another story.
So while I do agree that this technology is beneficial to a library’s patrons (both young and old alike) and there is a necessity for it in our culture, I still hold fast to the premise that a library should be a quiet place, as its primary purpose is for reading. Measures can be put into place to keep the noise contained and keep the library a welcoming place for all, if only the local government has the funds to implement those measures. When it doesn’t, we are left with Ms. Goodwin’s vision of a confusing madhouse where no learning can take place; when it does, we are left with Ms. Lucey’s vision of integrated methods of learning. I am fortunate, I have access to many libraries within a short drive, so I can pick and choose which setting I prefer. Far too many families do not have that luxury, so they are left with whatever their closest library can provide - be it peace and quiet, or an unwelcoming and potentially unsafe setting.
It is an unfortunate situation, but one that cannot be solved easily. If we could bring back the times where one parent could stay home, where only one income was needed to live comfortably, where children grew up with both parents in their home; then perhaps we could cure some of these ills. If we could give our libraries the funding they needed to expand, to move, or even to simply build walls, we could still have peaceful settings where both noisy technology and silent books could live in harmony.
In my community, and most likely in thousands of small communities across the nation, neither of these things is going to happen very soon. So what can be done?
Rather than debating whether technology and sound are beneficial to our libraries or not, perhaps we should be thinking up creative ways to let even the poorest of communities harbor today’s technology that our youth need while preserving the traditional “optimal reading” setting.
We cannot go back in time, we cannot stand still lest we be overrun… we can only change and adapt. How we choose do that, with a positive outlook or a negative one, is up to us.
Sincerely,
Carrie Bartkowiak
Homeschooling mother of 3 very tenacious boys
Portsmouth, Virginia
I’m quite serious, too. Not only was our library a near-unuseable little madhouse that evening, it didn’t even feel safe. We’ll only be going back there during school hours, when the teens don’t rule the roost. While I was estimating the “average” selling price of a home in Portsmouth and Chesapeake, I’d have to say I believe I came pretty close. Even if the prices are different, I’m still willing to bet that between Chesapeake and Portsmouth, the difference is in hundreds of thousands. That’s pretty significant when you’re talking about the county’s tax revenue; both from the properties themselves and from the families that can afford those homes. Our little library in Cradock could fit inside of the main library in Chesapeake ten times over, if not more. Granted, it’s much older and in a historical neighborhood, but still, if Portsmouth had half the funding for the local libraries that Chesapeake has, there is much that could be done to improve our little book bunker. I have to hand it to the Cradock library though… as small as they are, as cramped as it is in there, boy they sure do try. While our collection of movies, audio books, and bound books might pale in comparison to Chesapeake’s, and there certainly aren’t as many computers, at least we’ve got them to begin with. It’s a nice diverse collection, albeit small. And the librarians do hold programs for all ages; although I still have no idea where they tuck away all of those tables and chairs when that happens. They probably stack them up in their offices and can barely get through the door, much less to their desks. You gotta give credit where credit is due. Our little library really does try, and it does a good job catering to the community with what is has.
There’s just no cure for the problems it does have; none that I can think of, anyway. 
At least I’ve got a second vehicle and can pack the kids up and go to another library that is miles away… many of the families in Portsmouth can’t.
What do you think? I wanna know! Please leave a comment :)
All comments get link love here... I got rid of nofollow!
Subscribe to RSS
