Behind the stacks: The secret life of a librarian

When I applied for a part-time job at my local library, I had no idea that I’d be asked to sing and dance the Hokey Pokey several times a week. I would’ve run. I thought I’d sit behind a desk and get reacquainted with some of my favorite childhood authors, like Beverly Cleary and Judy Blume, while helping parents find books for their well-behaved children.

My dream of it being a quiet desk job was shattered the first time I co-hosted “Toddler Time,” with 45 active toddlers mostly going in 45 different directions. The librarian and I took turns reading books, hosting a puppet show, and handing out precut crafts. Even though we wore mics, the children could barely hear us above the din, and it looked like a confetti bomb had gone off when they left.

Libraries had changed since I was a kid. They were now more like a community service center than just a home for books. Older people signed up to learn basic computer skills or how to set up an Instagram account. Children reading below their grade level showed up weekly for tutoring, and immigrants came to study for their citizenship test. Even homeless people ventured in to get away from the elements.

All were welcome. No one was turned away.

One day a woman came in and held out her library card to me. “I heard we can get free zoo tickets with our card here,” she said. I asked where she heard that. “On a radio station in Colorado,” she replied. I gently explained that we were in Texas in a different library system.

“Well, what can I get for free with my library card?” she asked. I hardly knew where to begin. I explained that there were thousands of books, movies, CDs, and games – all were free. She appeared unimpressed.

I ramped up my sales spiel. “We have book clubs, audiobooks, e-books, magazines, and streaming services.” 

I kept going. “There’s classes on 3D printing, finance workshops, a cooking club, and free access to Ancestry.com. There are even trained volunteers to help you file your taxes.” She sighed and walked away.

Some patrons were easier to please than others. When a 7-year-old boy approached the desk with a slim volume from a popular series to check out, I asked, “Just one? Do you want to get some more?” He’d watched in awe as another family walked up to the checkout desk with three rolling suitcases full of books. Our library had a generous limit of 150 items per person.

He looked down and shook his head no. It dawned on me that he thought you had to pay for them. When I explained that the books were free, he happily picked out two more.

While many of my days were spent walking young readers through the stacks, my job also entailed shelf-reading, weeding out torn books, and watching tiny tots shred the shelves and carousels from the time we opened until the minute we closed.

I fielded my share of questions from visitors who had no idea what they wanted or even liked, and others who hoped I might remember a title with the vaguest of hints. (“The cover was blue.”) Perhaps most challenging were the times when I didn’t even understand the question.

A middle schooler once asked me, “Do you have any books on pH?” Thinking he had left several letters off his question, I responded with, “Huh?” He spoke more slowly as I looked in our Polaris catalog for two random letters and finally said, “No, sorry.” I was wrong.

When I shared this request with my manager later, I received some wise advice. “Never say no or that you don’t know,” she said. “Always say, ‘Let’s find out.’” Lesson learned. In the library, there’s never a shortage of learning opportunities on both sides of the desk.

One evening, a patron was having trouble with the copier and couldn’t get it to print double-sided. When my co-worker tried to help, the woman began yelling at her and could not be pacified. Then she had computer problems, followed by printer issues. Her curses and complaints could be heard all over the department.

After a few quiet moments I looked up to see the distraught woman hugging one of the staff members and sobbing. It turned out that the woman’s husband of 25 years had left her, and she didn’t know what to do. She was trying to get a résumé together and had no one in her life to turn to, so she came to the library.

Libraries today are about so much more than what’s on the shelves. They can be a sanctuary, a place to get answers, to ask questions, or simply a companionable place to be alone.

They can also be a place of enchantment.

During spring break one year, our children’s department hosted a Teddy Bear Camp. Kids could bring their favorite stuffed animal, leave it with us, and then watch online as their bear had adventures all week long – participating in story times and scavenger hunts, riding the book carts, climbing the shelves. It ended with a reunion party and puppet show. Seventy bears participated, and the daily photo shoots took forever. Imagine staging dozens of stuffed animals that can’t stand or follow directions.

One little girl who’d been watching the escapades online came in and asked to see her bear.

She stared at its lifeless body, looked up, and said, “But how do you make them come alive when we leave?”

Ah, that’s what makes a library so magical.