Team Building, Fun at Work, and Other Odd Concepts
The library is about to open. This Saturday. It all comes to this, and we're racing to the finish line.
Our big boss, the Library Director, is wonderful at what she does. She's a powerhouse - always on top of things, always available, always on time if it's at all possible for her to be so. She a shmoozer and a people person and knows just how to crinkle her forehead in concern at your story. If my life goal were to be a PR organizer type, she'd be my hero.
There's another side to this. She believes fully in Team Building Activities. I haven't been privy to her past efforts, but now that "we're all in this together" at the library, we all get a taste.
This week is National Library Week, and Tuesday was National Library Workers Day, specifically created to include those of us that aren't librarians but are still essential to libraries.
So this Monday morning, we all got an email saying we were to show up in the Non-Fiction area upstairs for a meeting, as well as a surprise. At this point the word "surprise" doesn't exactly have positive connotations, but we figured it'd be something set up to pat us on the back. I'm usually not a fan of such manufactured enthusiasm, but I tried to show up with an open mind. It was hard to not think of the time that we were losing in doing this.
We get up there and it was kind of odd to see everyone in the same place. You could feel the worry in the room - what was going to happen now? We're all in jeans and hair tied back, some with iPods slung on their waists, shuffling into a loose group by the public computers.
The Library Director welcomes everyone and says "Ok, I've promised you 10 minutes of my time. Does anyone have any questions about anything? I know pretty much everything happening this library regarding opening, so now's your chance." As soon as she finished speaking I realized what a true service she was giving us just then. She'd been pulling early, late, and weekend shifts and we had all seen the toll it had taken on her. Yet here she was, offering us a glimpse into the full picture.
A few people asked questions but nothing earthshaking was revealed. At least, not to me, I know too much about everything myself, as I'm on the Opening Day Committee.
After the questions died down she talked to us about National Library Week. She earnestly reminded us of how special an institution public libraries are. As she gestured towards the nearest bank of computers, she mentioned the equal status everyone has here, and that anyone can improve themselves however they wish here. Throughout, her voice was breaking and she fanned herself in an attempt to not cry. She said all those things people say when crying during speeches, which, to me, always kills the real sentiment. Why can't people just let themselves show emotion without making jokes at their expense?
Then she transitions into talking about the Non-Fiction section, which has been sponsored by some veterans association. She makes more crying noises as she mentions that this is close to her heart because her husband "was a veteran, no I mean is, is a veteran." Now, she just got married about 6 months ago, and there's this odd moment where everyone is obviously trying to figure out if she means her ex or her current husband. I really have no clue either way, and I don't know if her ex is deceased or not.
Just when we're feeling like we stumbled onto some very personal moment that we weren't meant to witness, the LD says, "in honor of our veterans, we will now hear so-and-so sing America the Beautiful." This librarian that she introduces is a soloist for the Crystal Cathedral, so introducing her to sing isn't too crazy, but still.....she walks up, faces us, and sings alone, sings beautifully, but it was so weird. I suppose for people that sit in on serious city meetings (like the LD) are used to this kind of thing - they do the pledge and all that constantly - but for most of us, it was an oddly formal moment of Americana. When the song ended there was one woman who, almost crying, was hugging the (unfortunate) people who ended up next to her. I could have totally called that - she's just the type, you know. I had witnessed the same sorts of displays during a 9/11 anniversary commemoration at my old elementary school job, where children sang patriotic songs and teachers cried openly.
That was pretty much it for day one, and we were heartily informed that there would be one of these meetings each day this week. "See you tomorrow in the Children's section!" Greg has urged me to record these "events". The mindset behind them is rather intriguing.
More later.
Our big boss, the Library Director, is wonderful at what she does. She's a powerhouse - always on top of things, always available, always on time if it's at all possible for her to be so. She a shmoozer and a people person and knows just how to crinkle her forehead in concern at your story. If my life goal were to be a PR organizer type, she'd be my hero.
There's another side to this. She believes fully in Team Building Activities. I haven't been privy to her past efforts, but now that "we're all in this together" at the library, we all get a taste.
This week is National Library Week, and Tuesday was National Library Workers Day, specifically created to include those of us that aren't librarians but are still essential to libraries.
So this Monday morning, we all got an email saying we were to show up in the Non-Fiction area upstairs for a meeting, as well as a surprise. At this point the word "surprise" doesn't exactly have positive connotations, but we figured it'd be something set up to pat us on the back. I'm usually not a fan of such manufactured enthusiasm, but I tried to show up with an open mind. It was hard to not think of the time that we were losing in doing this.
We get up there and it was kind of odd to see everyone in the same place. You could feel the worry in the room - what was going to happen now? We're all in jeans and hair tied back, some with iPods slung on their waists, shuffling into a loose group by the public computers.
The Library Director welcomes everyone and says "Ok, I've promised you 10 minutes of my time. Does anyone have any questions about anything? I know pretty much everything happening this library regarding opening, so now's your chance." As soon as she finished speaking I realized what a true service she was giving us just then. She'd been pulling early, late, and weekend shifts and we had all seen the toll it had taken on her. Yet here she was, offering us a glimpse into the full picture.
A few people asked questions but nothing earthshaking was revealed. At least, not to me, I know too much about everything myself, as I'm on the Opening Day Committee.
After the questions died down she talked to us about National Library Week. She earnestly reminded us of how special an institution public libraries are. As she gestured towards the nearest bank of computers, she mentioned the equal status everyone has here, and that anyone can improve themselves however they wish here. Throughout, her voice was breaking and she fanned herself in an attempt to not cry. She said all those things people say when crying during speeches, which, to me, always kills the real sentiment. Why can't people just let themselves show emotion without making jokes at their expense?
Then she transitions into talking about the Non-Fiction section, which has been sponsored by some veterans association. She makes more crying noises as she mentions that this is close to her heart because her husband "was a veteran, no I mean is, is a veteran." Now, she just got married about 6 months ago, and there's this odd moment where everyone is obviously trying to figure out if she means her ex or her current husband. I really have no clue either way, and I don't know if her ex is deceased or not.
Just when we're feeling like we stumbled onto some very personal moment that we weren't meant to witness, the LD says, "in honor of our veterans, we will now hear so-and-so sing America the Beautiful." This librarian that she introduces is a soloist for the Crystal Cathedral, so introducing her to sing isn't too crazy, but still.....she walks up, faces us, and sings alone, sings beautifully, but it was so weird. I suppose for people that sit in on serious city meetings (like the LD) are used to this kind of thing - they do the pledge and all that constantly - but for most of us, it was an oddly formal moment of Americana. When the song ended there was one woman who, almost crying, was hugging the (unfortunate) people who ended up next to her. I could have totally called that - she's just the type, you know. I had witnessed the same sorts of displays during a 9/11 anniversary commemoration at my old elementary school job, where children sang patriotic songs and teachers cried openly.
That was pretty much it for day one, and we were heartily informed that there would be one of these meetings each day this week. "See you tomorrow in the Children's section!" Greg has urged me to record these "events". The mindset behind them is rather intriguing.
More later.