At the age of 53, I’ve finally figured out that I want to be a librarian when I grow up. Please forgive the obsolete terminology; I do know that the preferred title is now media specialist, although I am uncertain as to why the change came about. Did the word librarian connote some bookish and birdlike woman who lived alone save for her many cats, and if so, was that a bad thing? Has the appellation been updated to reflect that there is much more to a library, or, media center, than books? No matter. Whatever moniker the job goes by, I want to be referred to as such.
I’ve been dancing around with words for most of my life. Got my first library card at the tender age of five. Began college as a journalism major. Regrettably, I found life at 18 to be much more interesting than higher education, so I did not complete my studies. Intent on becoming an independent adult, I dropped out of school and obtained both a job and an apartment. It was, after all, the seventies. Approximately 20 years and several apartments later, I finally went back to college and earned my bachelor's degree in elementary education. Marriage and four children had tempered my vision for myself, and teaching was a job that would allow me to continue learning while guiding my students on their own educational quest. It also afforded me the opportunity to be on the same schedule as my own progeny, which was a very appealing perquisite.
What manner of librarian do I want to be? Many of those I encountered as a student and as a parent seemed indifferent to the position they occupied, and a few actually gave the impression that they wished they could just be left alone with their books. I really never saw one that I wanted to emulate until I met Mrs. Sjolander. She was in charge of the media center at the first school I taught at, and she made her domain both a welcoming sanctuary and an exciting destination. She seemed to actually want people to come to the library, and always greeted visitors with a broad smile and a bright hello in her beautiful Swedish accent. Mrs. Sjolander made that media center an inviting place. She offered programs that the teachers could sign up for, yet didn’t mind us sending groups down unannounced to do research or get a book. Her philosophy of how a media center should be run was quite a departure from my previous experiences. Since moving to Georgia, I’ve been impressed again at how accessible the media specialist here makes our media center to all students. Given the opportunity, I will pattern my library after Mrs. Sjolander’s model, although I’ll probably not attempt the Swedish accent.
My decision to obtain an advanced degree in School Library Media is almost purely selfish. After twelve years of teaching, I know that I want to continue working with students. Seeing a child’s interest catch fire is one of the most thrilling of events, and, as a media specialist, I could interact with a whole school’s population. Being a school librarian would give me the chance to work at instilling a love for reading in children who might view it as drudgery in the classroom setting. Come to the erudite side, Luke. Personally, it would allow me the opportunity to continue to learn, to create, and to build a program that was of benefit to the students and teachers at my school. I would not just be a circulation maven, checking out materials and issuing overdue notices. My plans are much more ambitious than that.
