We are just a little past the halfway point for fall storytimes. My current plan of having a mixture of activities depending on my crowd's mood, interest, and attention spans is working well. I have moments of connection, moments of chaos. Sometimes my hands simply freeze while playing the ukulele. I admit I am still a little bit more nervous than I was prior to the pandemic. I’m not sure why or if I will eventually get more comfortable.
There was one week I did not feel exhausted after storytime, and I mistakenly (and a little smugly) thought that storytime was becoming an extension of myself like tennis or writing. But I was wrong! The following week I was exhausted again, and my introvert brain was back to being appalled at my continued interest in singing and reading with children.
I engage in a lot of activities that do not receive a lot of feedback. Art and writing come to mind! It can be lonely sometimes. Occasionally I scold myself for not trying harder to write or create in such a way that reaches others and builds connections. But I celebrate the ordinary beauty. That’s my jam. Anything else wouldn’t be genuine. And the extraordinary ordinary definitely attracts a smaller audience. I’m mostly ok with this though. I spend more time cherishing my small impact on the world than I don't. And because I am introverted, I am usually happy to tuck into my introvert activities and live quietly and alone.
With storytime the feedback is usually instant. I can be a part of the joy that completely consumes a toddler's face or trying to frantically reassess when a book I'm reading is met with perplexed looks or worse, complete disregard. I relish this instant feedback and being a part of this 30-minute ritual of books, songs, families, community, and connection.
There was a time in my life I couldn't walk into a store or do anything that involved crowds. I was constantly worried someone would say something hateful to me. I spent my middle and high school years being bullied. I couldn't escape it. Like a lot of kids who are being bullied, I felt like I had no one to turn to. It was all the usual things that go along with bullying. I was spit on by two girls once. My hair was often pulled. My gender was under constant scrutiny. Both students and teachers said terrible things about my family. One teacher openly mocked me in front of others. My personal belongings were often stolen or defaced. Mostly because I was different. I was unattractive (for lack of a better way to describe this terrible offense). I tried too hard. My family had issues. Things most of us can relate to, right? The worst incident happened when a few teenage boys swerved toward me in their car while I was riding my bike. They were leaning out of the car calling me terrible names, and of course I completely toppled off my bike. I survived it, but moments like that made it increasingly harder to go out, and at one point I just stopped unless I had to.
Thankfully adulting kicked in, and I had to go out to survive. It took several years to get comfortable with crowds, and I remember the pride I felt when I first walked across an indoor mall to a food court, which was on the opposite side of the department store I worked in. I had always entered the store through the back. One day I had both the money and bravery I needed to make the journey, and I did it. A bizarre moment to be so pivotal in my life, but I really think that's the moment I knew I could make it. I recall how giddy I felt because barely anyone looked at me. I was almost invisible. It helped that I was living in a different town.
One of the most appealing things about working in a library was that it was never crowded. At least not the library I frequented during my middle school years. It was also quiet, and I was almost immediately invisible every time I walked in. Sure, the librarian at the desk had patrons, but they rarely exchanged more than a few pleasantries.
How wrong I was! And how happy I am that I was wrong! Sure, a library can be quiet, but on the youth side it can be downright loud at times. The library can also get crowded, and occasionally the members of that entire crowd are all waiting for help at the same time. I do still relish my invisibility and am quite practiced at it after so many years, but often, I am not invisible. I can think of two patrons who change computers whenever I switch desks from the adult desk to the youth desk or vice versa. Recently a patron saw me walking into work for my late shift and she asked if I would help her with her Excel document once I was on the desk. I groused a little about patrons thinking they could put a hold on a library worker like they would a book, but I was secretly pleased. And, even though pleasantries are the most common exchange I share with patrons, there are plenty of strange, beautiful, uncomfortable, enlightening, and important exchanges that completely reshape my day.
It's not at all the job I envisioned myself having. My younger self did not take many things into account. For example, I have coworkers, which means that I am a part of a team, which would have horrified my younger self. My adult self, however, is happiest when I feel like I’m a part of that team. And occasionally my adult self still struggles with feelings of exclusion, which sometimes baffles me into silence. But other times I am brave and also proud of myself for wanting to feel like I belong to something. I should totally feel like it’s ok to belong to something. The fear of rejection shouldn’t be the one making that decision for me.
My younger self also didn’t realize that libraries were places for programming and community. Thankfully I was thrown into programming before the fears and uncertainties belonging to my younger self could stand in the way.
I never really thought about off-desk time. I assumed you worked the desk, maintained the collection, and read whenever you had a few free minutes. To be fair, I do not recall witnessing the librarians from my youth ever reading. But I knew it had to happen at some point, right? So sure, I work the desk and maintain the collection. But I spend a lot of time talking about books with patrons, offering technology help, and helping my team create and maintain our space. We have bulletin boards to make! Toys to clean! Teen volunteers to manage! Displays to create and fill! Word searches to create! Whew, I am exhausted just thinking about all of this.
But I also have off-desk time. Time to practice my ukulele, engage in learning opportunities, meet with members of all the committees I’m on, create lists, read books for programming, readers' advisory, and professional development. I read books at work! I get paid to read!
And so yea, back to programming. I have been completely clueless about every program I’ve been involved in, everything from memoir and poetry workshops to civic engagement, book clubs, and storytimes. But finding my way in each of these programs has really given definition to who I am. I haven’t given up. I’ve learned to reach out and ask for help. I learn something new each day, and sometimes I even remember the things I learn! I also have such a ridiculously good time connecting with patrons through these programs. I feel like I am a part of this world, and I’m doing something wonderful with my life. These are feelings my younger self would have found unbelievable. I am so proud of my younger self for not giving up on me.
I had no idea I would be facilitating storytimes when I first started working for the library twelve years ago. Heck, I only started really shadowing youth librarians about seven years into my journey. Seriously! Thankfully I knew immediately that working with kids was the direction I wanted to take. And it’s cheesy as hell, but I’m grateful a couple librarians took a chance on me, and I get to do this job every day because of them.
Getting to be a part of the world in this way is not something I take for granted.
Storytimes are one of my favorite things about my job. They are tough! I still feel like a beginner after five years! Sometimes the room is total chaos! And I have to constantly practice so many things, some weird! Like thinking about moments in the books that invite questions and practicing how to ask those questions in a way that makes sense to toddlers and preschoolers. That is only one weird thing! But storytimes are also incredibly rewarding, humbling, nourishing, and uplifting. I’m not sure who is learning more. The kids or me.
Here are some of my favorite moments of the season:
- While reading a book about Pete the Cat going to different places in his school, I asked a kid where Pete was. Spoiler alert, Pete was in the lunchroom. The kid had a completely different perspective though. He pointed to the page and said, “he’s at the top.” The top of the page. Right!
- One kid literally dances on his bottom whenever I say we’re going to sing our hello song. He loves the song so much. His whole face lights up and he starts scooting around on his bottom.
- Two of the moms really hit it off at last week’s storytime. They came to the first session, talked afterwards, and came back to the second session together. Thankfully, I had plenty of space.
- Because we sing the same song with our shaker eggs every week, there are a few kids, some barely walking who immediately start rolling their arms when I say it’s time to sing our shaker egg song (It's the Roly Poly song). One girl, who is barely a toddler, mirrored my movements almost perfectly last week. It was one of the cutest things ever.
- I don’t always bring out my goodbye rhyme animals, which are magnetic, laminated animals I made, but when I do, they love the ladybug best. The rhyme is, “Give a Hug, Ladybug,” and I encourage everyone to give their loved ones hugs. And they all give hugs. It’s very sweet.
- One family consisting of a mom, older brother, and younger sister gives me a laugh whenever they come to storytime. When I sing the hello song, I always ask if anyone wants to sing their name. The older brother raises his hand, we sing his name, and then he raises his hand again and asks for us to sing his sister’s name. Well, his sister likes to be called one thing and older brother calls her something else. So, when he tells me his sister’s name, she always corrects him. It’s hilarious.
- One storytime I had two kids with the same name. No big deal, right? So when we sang the hello song with names I got really excited that the two kids shared a name and pointed it out. The boy turned and looked at the girl with the same name and he crossed his arms and made the most sour face. Oh my, I learned my lesson there. Going to sing the same name twice if it happens again!
- Due to covid precautions, our storytimes are currently in the large meeting room on the other side of the library so patrons can spread out. Because of this, we all walk across the library together like a long train or parade, and I sing a song the whole way across the library. Occasionally I hear the kids singing, but usually it’s just my loud voice. I wasn’t sure how our patrons on the adult side were going to handle this parade, but they absolutely love it. I have seen the most hardened newspaper readers and shushers completely melt and crack a smile when the parade marches past them. One patron always stops what he’s doing and holds his hand over his heart whenever we walk past him. He happens to have a service dog, and the first time the crowd of us passed her, she backed up toward him protectively. It was very cool. I can’t do it justice writing about it. Since that first time, the service dog has accepted the parade and knows we are no longer a threat.
- During one of my storytimes, I asked the kids what color something was, and one kid said, “turquoise.” I kid you not. But it gets better! Another kid jumped in and said, “it’s also called teal.” So yes, there was a philosophical discussion about color between two preschoolers during one of my storytimes.
- At the beginning of one of my storytimes I noticed a kid was alone. He was about four or five, so I was only mildly alarmed. I asked him where his mom was and he said, “she’s breastfeeding my sister.” Wow, how cool is that? He was so matter of fact, and it was such a big word. I made a quick decision to not disrupt storytime to find mom and have a conversation with her later instead. She came in only a couple minutes later, and her son was perfectly behaved while she was away.
- During last week’s storytime we were singing a pumpkin song that required hand movements. A toddler was so enthralled with my hand movements he came up and placed his hands very close to mine and tried to figure out what I was doing while I was moving my hands. He really wanted to make the same movements. We sang that song three times, and he was mesmerized the entire time.
- Also, during last week’s storytime, when I introduced the book about a house that wasn’t sure it wanted to be haunted, the automatic paper towel dispenser went off on its own. All the grown-ups in the room had a hearty laugh about that!
- Once last week’s storytime came to an end I realized we had a few extra minutes. I asked if anyone had a song they wanted to sing. One girl picked Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star and we sang that twice. An older kid who was out of school for the day raised her hand and said she had a song. I asked her what it was, and she gave me a song name I didn’t recognize so I asked her to sing it for us. It was a church hymn! And she sang it beautifully!
I will continue sharing storytime happiness. Maybe not in novel form next time, but we still have a few more weeks left. Who knows what’s going to happen!
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