The Biggest Little City Library

When the downtown Reno library was built in 1966, the intention was to build it in a park. For some reason, that didn’t work out, so the architect put a park in the library.

At last count, there were over 1200 plants inside the Reno library.

Needless to say, the air quality is excellent, aided by a reflecting pool on the ground floor.

Unfortunately, the library gets a lot more use than support. Despite steady increase in patronage, their staff has decreased from 32 to 16 since 2003. A lack of social services in the area means librarians find themselves acting as counselors and case managers more than they really have time to. And the building was not built with computers in mind. They have had to do massive rewiring to even get computers plugged in. However, as is the trend, the librarians all seemed to love their jobs fiercely.

Mixed Use Utah

We didn’t spend the night in Utah in a cave up in the hills. We spent the night in Utah in a car up in the hills of Wasatch National Forest. Woke up to another amazing view and then wound through about a hundred miles of mountain roads before emerging in the small town of Kamas. We were pretty eager to get to Salt Lake City, where we were looking forward to spending the day researching. But the library was right on the (only) road through town, so we got out to check it out.

The Summit County Library was in a small building…

and occupied an even smaller space in that mixed-use building.

Also in the building were a health clinic and the Motor Vehicles Administration.

The library itself was heavily weighted towards light reading materials, but the librarian was wonderful, knowledgeable, and happy to help.

A short drive across recently developed desert brought us to Salt Lake City. The library there was huge, with the building and the grounds covering an entire square block downtown.

The shopping mall feel didn’t end at the door. The first thing one encounters when one walks in the main entrance of the Salt Lake City Library, Main Branch, is a hair salon.

And that’s just one of a whole row of shops that hold prime retail space in the great hall of the library, under a flock of book-butterflys.

The library also had a mallrat-esque cast of characters hanging around inside and out front. When we walked in, a young woman came up to us, explained that she’d just been assaulted by the police, and asked to use our cell phone. Before we could explain that neither of our phones was charged, a man in a button-up shirt who looked more like mall security than any librarian I’ve ever seen before or since came up and told her, quite rudely, that she wasn’t allowed to talk to us and had to go outside. He then apologized to us until we expressed empathy for the woman in her struggle with the police, at which point a light switched off in his eyes. I’m fairly certain that at that moment he re-categorized us as shiftless drifters who were probably early for Burning Man. Oh well, people have surely thought worse of me.

One strange feature I’ve been noticing is automated check out kiosks. I’m concerned that it means we’re going to lose even more librarian positions. Of course, given the budget cuts libraries have seen recently and the outrageous staffing reductions they’ve had to put up with, I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that many librarians are happy to be relieved of that fairly mindless duty. But I bet there are a lot of others who miss seeing what people are checking out.

By far the coolest feature of the SLC library (besides the ample air conditioned space for people to come in out of the grueling heat) is the zine collection in the young adult section.

Chicago’s brow-beaten public servants

It was already 90 degrees Fahrenheit by 11:30 am, so when we arrived at the Near North branch of the Chicago public Libraries to find they don’t open until noon, I was pretty frustrated. It turned out to be nice, though. We sat in the shade and commiserated with more than 20 other people over the next 30 minutes about diminishing public services.

At noon, a rush of cold air poured out of the library door, which had been unlocked and was being held open by a lovely, smiling young woman. She welcomed us in with a smile that gave us no clue that the branch was chronically short staffed and that one of the not-enough-people scheduled to work had called out.

The air conditioning was in good working order, the printers were printing, and the computers were computing, though none of them very quickly or with any particular flourish.

What this library lacked in material resources, it made up for in indomitable librarian spirit. As the children’s librarian (working outside of her lovely, rainbow-themed dominion to ensure adequate help for those using the computers) signed me up for my guest library pass and showed me how to print, a man using the computer next to mine asked the other librarian if she could help him with something “again.”

“I’ll show you, but I really want you to watch so that you can do it yourself next time,” she responded with a perfect mix of patience and firmness. Don’t be deceived: reference librarians LOVE to be asked for help. They live for it. But their real joy comes in seeing people become self-sufficient researchers.

The plight of librarians is similar to that of teachers: people love to complain about the social evidence of our jobs going undone or underdone, but no one seems very keen on providing us with the resources to do them well.

Since Mayor Rahm Emmanuel took over Chicago, Library budgets have been slashed.

In 2011, CPL Commisioner Mary Dempsy had to respond to a Fox news piece fair-and-balencedly entitled: “Are Libraries Necessary, or a Waste of Tax Money?”

Fortunately, her response was eloquent and firm:

Public libraries are more relevant and heavily used today than ever before, and public libraries are one of the better uses of the taxpayers’ dollars. Let me speak about the Chicago Public Library, which serves 12 million visitors per year. No other cultural, educational, entertainment, or athletic organization in Chicago can make that claim. Those 12 million visitors come to our libraries for free access to books, journals, research materials, online information and computers, reference assistance from trained librarians, early literacy programs, English-as-a-second-language assistance, job search assistance, after school homework help from librarians and certified teachers, best sellers in multiple formats (print, audio, downloadable, and e-book), movies, music, author events, book clubs, story times, summer reading programs, financial literacy programs, or simply a place to learn, dream, and reflect.

Two short years later, the Chicago Public Libraries are almost all closed on Mondays, as opposed to being open 7 days a week. The weekly average for local branches is now only 48 hours per week open to the public. And hundreds of librarians have lost their jobs.

But, with meager resources, the Near North Branch still had a résumé and job hunt corner,

and their beautiful wooden tables were mostly full within an hour of opening.

Their bright, welcoming Children’s Room was tidy and well kept, though as I mentioned, the children’s librarian was working double duty.

As of last week, the city announced a large grant from the Gates Foundation for research “to create a new model for innovation, experimentation and decision-making within libraries.” Whether this works to make the libraries more responsive to community needs or less so remains to be seen, though the Gates Foundation’s record is not spotless.

The eerie po-mo trend in library architecture

Maybe its just me, but when I imagine a big city library, as when I imagine a museum, I picture a large, imposing stone or brick building. Local branches get off the hook: they can look however they want and I’m generally just psyched that there’s a library people can walk to. But I have very particular expectation for main libraries in major cities.

Now, I guess I don’t really know that Erie, PA is a major city, but its name is bold on my map. And I’m going to pick on it because it was the first such library that I saw, but it’s certainly not the only one that’s gone this way. And before I start complaining, let me assure you that it’s a lovely, well appointed library with a wonderful selection of books, plenty of free computers, very helpful librarians, and views of the Lake Erie waterfront. More on that later: first I have to vent about the architecture.

I wish I had a picture of the outside. It looks like the gymnasium of a well-funded high school. You can get some sense of it from these pictures of the inside, which looks more like a convention center.

So what’s wrong with that? you may ask. The answer is… I’m not totally sure. Is is just sentimentality; do I just want the library to feel cozy? Or is there more? Is there something a little sterile about the architectural choices in some newer libraries.

At any rate, I really don’t mean to be down on Erie. I really enjoyed it and have been praising it to other librarians since we left.  Their local history room had lots of interesting maps and artifacts, including this lovely array of old photos:

Another, more modern feature of the Erie County Public Library was that one could easily purchase a copy card. I am loath to give Kinkos my money, no matter what they change their name to. I’d always rather make my copies at a library. But sometimes it’s really hard, especially when you’re traveling and don’t have a permanent address within the jurisdiction of the library.  This one made it easy: purchase a card for 50 cents or a dollar and you’re ready to go. And there were plenty of new, well-kept computers and other machines for people to use. Even the coffee from the lobby cafe was pretty good.

So, all in all, I can’t say I’m opposed to new (almost certainly more efficient) libraries that suit the current aesthetic.  I guess behind the laptop I’m just old school.