Why I am not a school librarian

Dec 13, 2006 15:18

Admittedly, my primary reason for not becoming a school librarian seems illogical: I am not a morning person. But trust me, you wouldn't want me trying to teach your kids anything at 7:30 in the morning. I haven't been to bed before midnight in quite some time, and I usually don't function very well before 9 a.m. Ever since I was a little kid, I've been a night owl, and even though school librarians are often paid better than public librarians, public libraries open at nine or ten in the morning.

Circadian rhythms aside, while booktalking last week I was again reminded of why I made the right decision (for me) to work in public as opposed to school libraries.

I met with a group of school and public (but mostly school) librarians last week for a booktalking session. We all read 2-5 books, write up reviews, and share them. These meetings are great because they're a chance to look through books you might only have seen reviews for, and to hear about new titles. It's also a chance for public and school librarian interaction, which there's never enough of, imho. No bad here, really.

One of the books I booktalked was Black Duck by Janet Taylor Lisle. This book is in my ten favorites of the year, I think. It's about a boy, Ruben, twelve years old, living in a small Rhode Island port town during Prohibition. Because his town is easily accessible by water, it becomes a hotspot for rumrunners. Eventually, the town becomes ruled by organized crime, and Ruben doesn't know who to trust anymore. There's action, a great look at a shady side of American history (and a time that is very much glossed over in schools), the tiniest bit of guy romance, and grit. Reviews have been muchly favorable, and it's a book I think I'd like to use with a summer reading group. As part of my booktalk, I mentioned that this was a book for approximately sixth through ninth graders, based on the storytelling and the age of the main character.

When I got done booktalking, one of the school librarians said to me, "Do you really think that book would be appropriate in a middle school? I'm worried about the rum."

I assured her that the main character never drank the rum, and yes, there was kidnapping and offstage murder, but no drinking or sex. I think it's a book that fans of the Stormbreaker books (that's another story altogether, not for this entry because I shouldn't comment on books I haven't finished) and other action or historical titles would enjoy.

"Are you sure?" she asked again. "Well, maybe I'll have to check it out."

I respect school librarians very much. They have to go through a hell of a lot of training and continuing education in order to support their teachers and curriculum. But I could never, never do it. I am too addicted to books that have sex, drugs, and rock and roll and love recommending them too much. I couldn't pass over Theodora Twist because of the sex scene, knowing there's so much in that book to discuss. I do understand where the school librarian's concern comes from. I know it's real, and from working with school librarians I know it can be hard to develop reading lists and recommend books. I'd just rather not have to worry about it on a daily basis.

Sort of ETA: I started this entry yesterday morning, and yesterday afternoon I read a LTTE in School Library Journal from a school librarian who was outraged that SLJ's starred review of Black Hole by Charles Burns did not explicitly mention the nudity and sex scenes in the book. The reviewer's response was that he did describe a mature, frightening graphic novel using words like "dark" and "unsettling." The book is about a sexually transmitted disease and the isolation it brings to those infected. The reviewer, btw, works in a high school, just like the person who wrote the complaint. The two letters made me think even more about the different collection development views between school and public librarians. Neither is wrong, of course, but each has vastly different audiences and purposes to consider. Being a reviewer is a constant battle of the middle: To spoil or not to spoil? Is nudity worth mentioning? How explicit does sex have to be to warrant a mention in a review? I don't know the answers to either of these questions (although really, if the ending of a book sucks, please tell me so I don't buy it and then have kids returning it and whining about how much the ending sucks), and the reviewer of Black Hole handled his criticism with far more grace than I probably would have.

I am ITCHING to talk fandom but I can't right now. But have a link, all those who like to write by Evanescence: What's the saddest song ever? Science knows.

books, i work with crazy people

Previous post Next post
Up