As I sit here planning for my next program, I wonder to myself if anyone knows how many hours it takes to record a 10-minute video, or if people are even watching them and not just skimming along.
I have to admit, this is peculiar.
I usually have a room full of people in front of me that I can account for: toddlers smiling, dancing and interacting with each other, while parents are chatting and catching up; tweens munching and mingling as I hang in the background, facilitating and silently laughing at their quirky conversations.
I miss the human connection. I miss the traffic, the conversations, the laughter drifting in and out of the children’s room that innocently spills into the other departments.
Now, the only thing in front of me is my iPhone, balancing on a flimsy tripod facing me, and me looking at myself on the small screen to make sure I’m not crooked and blurry before I press the “record” button. In my head, I hear a voice say, “3, 2, 1 ...”
I’m taping my fifth video of the week. I’m wearing my fun story time hat to let the children know I’m still Miss Carol-Leigh, vibrant and colorful. I put on a nice blouse — but, clandestinely, I am wearing my pajama bottoms. It’s the new COVID work wardrobe.
It is not because I’ve succumbed to lounging all day in my pajamas; it is because it’s 4:30 in the morning, and I am giving myself time to record my video without interruptions: landscapers, wind blowing furniture across my deck, waste management trucks, and, you know, the all-too-familiar sound of a toilet flushing. (I’m fairly certain that a toilet flushing while I’m reading “The Very Hungry Caterpillar” would not be very appealing to any audience)
And while it may not be the same physical experience, I’m hoping to deliver the message that I am still here to foster early literacy skills so the littles can learn and grow, to embrace a colorful world of literature through stories, songs, finger plays and rhymes.
I would have never imagined I’d be working as a children’s librarian from my living room, but I am. We all are. We have set up our own little libraries in our personal space. A favorite plant in a handsome flower pot, or family pictures strategically placed behind us, next to an attractive vase filled with fresh flowers, filling a space that was once cluttered with familiar knickknacks to create an inviting setting.
This is how we roll during our stay-at-home, shelter-in-place, social distancing new life as librarians. The show must go on, and we didn’t skip a beat.
We wear many hats. Before COVID-19, it was unimaginable that we would have to deliver all of our services virtually, but the past 60 days have demonstrated that we have reinvented the wheel once again.
We have a long way to go in the way of transitioning, but we are getting there, and we are Zooming our heads off so we can collaborate with each other, as we always do, for new ideas on how to deliver exceptional services.
We are more a family than we are a community, and unless you are in this field, it’s hard to imagine the inventive planning we do to get where we are now. We are forever thinking ahead, setting new trends for the future of our libraries.
But are widespread virtual services included in that model for the future of libraries? We hope not. We can’t wait to go back to work, and we look forward to seeing you again.
Don’t get me wrong: Many of our resources have been accessible virtually even before the shutdown (databases, movie streaming, eBooks and audiobook downloads, music streaming services, the “ask a librarian” inquiry service, homework help, and more) — but we still like to see your face, and we miss seeing you in the library and while attending our programs.
When I tell people I’m a librarian, 99 percent of the time their reply is, “Isn’t that a dying field? I mean, now that we have the internet, we don’t need libraries anymore, do we?”
My short reply is, “No, it’s not a dying field. It’s underfunded but necessary, and we tirelessly try to get that message out to the public.”
My long answer (get ready for it) is this:
Yes, maybe we have moved away from hard copy reference in the way of encyclopedias and atlases, which can be accessed digitally through the library, and we no longer provide physical card catalogs. And, yes, you can google “stuff.” But if you want an answer to a question, there is no better way to find the answer than to ask a librarian.
We are Masters of Library Science — translation: information specialists, resource gurus. Have the rare ability to find the title of a book that the only thing you know about it is the cover image had a speck of blue in it. The bathroom is this way, the bus stop is that way. Yes, I can show you how to download an app on your iPhone, Kindle, Droid, tablet, iPad, so you can read or listen to a book, or help you find an article for homework or to settle a debate, while I navigate through our databases (which are not Google but better), get a scholarly journal article that is considered to be a primary resource, extend time on the public computer for you, help you copy, scan, fax, or send a copy by email, or create a resume.
Oh, did you want me to reserve the title for you? Sure. Did you want the next book in the series as well? Of course! You have five library cards — would you like us to merge them? Sure, we can do that for you. You’d like to check out as many books as you can on yours and your children’s cards? No problem! Wait! Our receipt paper ran out after the 49th book — let me just replace that.
Did you say your toddler didn’t make it to the bathroom and had an accident on the brand new rug in the children’s room? Sure, no problem. Let me get something to soak it up.
We wear lots and lots of hats.
So, when we immediately went completely virtual without skipping a beat, you can’t imagine the scrambling that has taken place. Am I proud of every single librarian, custodian, clerk, page, employees in tech and the business office, board member, volunteer, and, of course, our directors, and everyone who works within the walls of a library? Absolutely. We figured it out, got it together in the blink of an eye and went virtual within seconds of temporarily closing.
We are a not-for-profit agency, so that’s proof we are doing this to provide exceptional service for our community. Want to listen to your favorite story? You got it! Want to ask a question? No problem! Need a library card? Just ask — we are here to serve you.
We have virtual cooking, story time, chess, bingo, DIY programs, craft programs, yoga, live music, art education, Dungeons and Dragons, scavenger hunts, trivia night, homework help, and so much more. Every day, we go above and beyond to serve our communities.
It’s a different world right now for everyone during this pandemic, but it’s temporary. We as a nation are resilient and strong. We are going to be okay.
Your library is doing its best to keep you engaged, answer your inquiries and deliver virtual material any way we can. We are all in this together, so visit your local library on Facebook and see what’s cooking — literally.
We can’t wait to see you all again.
Carol-Leigh Susinno is the children’s librarian at the Hampton Bays Public Library.
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