Introducing New Series - The Library Manager Files!

 

The Library Manager Files

For the past 15 years I had the pleasure of managing several public libraries. During that time, I collected far more than meeting notes, reports, and paperwork. I collected a lifetime of stories.

Some of them made me and others laugh.

Some of them kept me awake at night.

Some of them remind me why I love libraries.

And many of them taught me lessons that no one could have ever prepared me for.

Now that I'm retired (as of June 30th, Yay!) I thought it would be fun to start unpacking some of my files (mental files of course) and go one by one and share with you what I learned along the way.

Stories have always been one of my favorite ways to connect with people. I love discovering the humor in unexpected moments, the compassion in challenging ones, and the human connections that remind us we're never navigating life alone. I believe every story has two endings: the one that happened...and the lesson we carry with us afterward.

Just in case you're wondering. The names and locations and any other identifiable attributes will be changed for privacy issues. Librarians love to uphold privacy. However, the stories and lesson are all detailed to the best of my memory.

If you've ever worked in a public library, I hope these stories make you smile, nod your head, and maybe even think, "Yep...I've been there."

If you're a new manager or thinking about becoming one, then I hope these stories give you a glimpse into just how wonderfully unpredictable public libraries can be and not the complete opposite :)

In my series the Library Manager Files:

*Each file has a story.

*Each story has a lesson.

And every once in a while, you'll find yourself wondering...

"Did that really happen?"

The answer is probably most likely umm yes.

Make sure to grab a cup of coffee, pull up a chair, and tune into the Library Manager Files.

See you next week for...

📁 File #1: The Case of the Soggy Pants

From Writing to Storytelling: How One Group Found Their Voice

I’ve been doing a lot of research on intergenerational literacy and oral history and researching ideas like Gentelligence and exploring how different generations communicate, preserve stories, and pass on traditions lately. Along the way, memories of my own experiences keep bubbling up, reminding me why understanding intergenerational literacy and keeping storytelling alive is so important.

One memory in particular that came back to me was from about a year ago. It was a difficult time for me because my writing group that I had been hosting at the library for several years fell apart. I was saddened by the ending of this group because it had been so magical. Well, in true Compassionate Librarian form, I wanted to keep the magic going, so I found myself starting something new: a storytelling circle. I am someone who loves stories. I am surrounded by books all day, every day, I find myself drawn to stories in every form. 

So I leaned into what I know best: talking to groups and sharing stories.

Our very first gathering centered around banned books. I wheeled in a full cart of titles from the Top 10 Challenged list, and what unfolded was magical. Each person had a personal connection to a book on that cart. I read this in high school. I found this during a difficult time in my life and it comforted me. This was my favorite story growing up. What began as a discussion of censorship quickly became a circle of memories, reflections, and laughter.

As we talked, connections emerged. I could see it wasn't just between people and books, it was clearly between multiple generations sharing stories that are valuable and meaningful. We found ourselves reflecting on how stories shape identity, comfort us in hard times, and offer perspectives that sometimes scare the world enough to be challenged. We realized that among all of our collective memories there are many stories worth telling.

That day, this new group bonded. We decided to meet monthly and share stories, memories, and carry on oral traditions. Family, holidays, ghosts, places we grew up, the conversations all just flowed naturally, weaving together threads of lived experience that transcended beyond anyone's age or background. The ages spanned from teens to seasoned adults. 

Looking back now, I see that what began as the end of one group became the beginning of a new kind of community. Just like Djo’s song End of Beginning, we found our group in another version and we were in it. We were definitely in it. All we needed was a space to talk, to listen, and to honor the stories that connect us across generations. It was so amazing!

Sometimes, when writing fades, storytelling finds its voice and I want to give tribute to this group for bringing back the art of storytelling and preservation the tradition of oral history. 

Until next time,

the Compassionate Librarian