A few weeks ago, I was in Houston and made a casual reference to Donalyn Miller’s The Book Whisperer, which extols authentic reading and extensive classroom collections. Miller is a Texan, and I was in Texas, but her work was new to many folks I talked with.

Then I remembered that a long, long, long time ago, I asked one of my school library management students if I could share her take on The Book Whisperer on this blog. And I never had.

So, without further ado (because, for heaven’s sakes, there have already been eons of ado), here’s Holly’s take on The Book Whisperer, a la Prezi.

For the third year now, I set aside some time in our last meeting of SI 624: Media for Children and Young Adults for students to reflect on what they have learned in the past term. Perhaps it will coincide with what I believe, and perhaps not, but it’s important for reflection to happen in a quiet, unhurried way. And because the end of the term is so chaotic, the classroom feels like the place to allot that time.

So … here’s what I believe in 2011:

I believe in the power of story transmit, transform, and transcend. I believe that stories impact us in various ways and that we can no longer expect a single canon of works or a single format to satisfy everyone. That being said, I find myself more and more concerned that we are losing a sense of common literary, musical, or cultural heritage. As four-part harmony hymns give way to contemporary unison songs in church, something is lost for me. Similarly, to grow to adulthood without having experienced some of the authors and works who have impacted those who came after feels like a truncation. Trees need both branches and roots, and I continue to question how we develop our children’s literary roots without privileging one culture over another.

I believe in the power of information to impact lives. I want better K-8 database interfaces with better content. I want those paid subscriptions to be better than the results brought in an open Web search: more visually rich, more customized, more multimedia. I am worrying that we, as librarians, privilege children’s database content that is not developmentally appropriate or reading-level appropriate just to say that we use databases. Most K-8 databases have not had a face lift in years; and while they may have updated some of the articles, they remain focused on text, much of which is more sophisticated in style than the reader needs. Database content should be wondrous. Open Web searching by the very young means they begin brand affiliations at a very young age. Right now, they choose Google or Bing as their brand of choice, and while those are merely portals to content, they are seen as easier and more barrier-free. I want to see database companies do what Capstone did and create digital media that meets children where they are, that celebrates the unique needs of the young researcher. Invest now, or lose users later.

I believe that we are living in a time of unprecedented change in society, technology, student interactions with schools and community, and culture. I am excited by the possibilities of a digital life but also believe that we will eventually settle upon a world where there is a place for print and a place for digital. I recognize that many in our nation lack the digital access and tools that I have, and that to pull the print world out from under them, like the proverbial rug, would be a dramatic setback. I believe that, like today’s kitchens that have both stove and microwave, we do not need to choose one or the other.

I believe that libraries are important community centers. This morning, on my way to school, I stopped off at the library just as it was opening. At the opening hour, half of the patrons’ parking lot was already full. My home library matters to people. I also recognize that patrons do not understand the pricing of serials or the costs of eBooks (both to the library and, in the case of Kindle and Overdrive, in the cost of their long-protected library privacy) and that new conversations are needed in order to secure the ongoing funding necessary for thriving, vibrant intellectual neighborhood hubs.

How about you — what do you believe this year?

Here in Michigan, and particularly in Ann Arbor, the national headquarters of Borders and the home of the first Borders, back when it was a single independent bookstore, are melancholy if you mention “the bookstore model.”

We watched huge numbers of Borders stores close this winter and have heard rumors from our friends and friends of friends that the end of Borders might be nigh. Now they’re liquidating and closing them all down, starting tomorrow. Our friends work at the corporate office of Borders and staff the stacks downtown. (Oy – it’s Ann Arbor Art Fair this weekend. Let us say a prayer for those poor souls working the flagship store smack in the middle of Art Fair as people throng to the store for a cool break from the heat surge and the lure of discounted books.)

Many of us remember the “old Borders” in its original location back when it was staffed by hungry PhD students with voracious interest in and deep knowledge of the content areas they served. Special orders? No charge. Just need a quiet place to sit for a few hours? No charge. And so our department’s informal listserv has been full of memories that revolve around Borders that go back to the 1980s. Instead of CDs, they sold music scores. Instead of wrapping paper, art posters. More Kafka than coffee.

So it’s a bit weird, at first glance, to hear about converting libraries to bookstores given our particular hyperlocal context. (Not to mention that when Borders moved from a more classic bookstore shelving system to a “grocery store” shelving model, I had one heck of a time finding anything by their categories in the children’s section.)

But take a look at what is happening at Red Hawk Elementary in the article below, and it seems to make perfect sense to abandon Dewey and to classify books by topic instead. In fact, I always harbored a suspicion that part of the reason why non-fiction circulation was so high, K-5, was that kids liked to go and find “all the cat books” in a single place.

I have heard, anecdotally, that secondary school libraries that sort their fiction according to genre see an enormous jump in circulation. Take a look at the article below, and ask yourself: especially with our youngest learners, does Dewey work? Or would this unconventional model meet learners where they are? (LOVE LOVE LOVE those big signs in the photo!) Which “sacred cows” are worth saving? Which are worth experimenting with? Which systems support librarians more than users? Which systems are essential in order for a library to be able to function with what is likely to be a reduced staff?

I love the bold action taken below, even though I might have been too much of a scaredy cat to try it myself. And I love the idea that if you abandon Dewey, you can also shed a whole bunch of lessons about Dewey, searching for titles, etc., which opens up room for other kinds of instruction. What do you think?

Red Hawk Elementary library scraps Dewey Decimal System for bookstore model – Longmont Times-Call via kwout