Are you reading Judi Moreillon’s QR: Quick Remedies in School Library Monthly or online?  In each issue, Dr. Moreillon examines multiple stakeholders’ perceptions of the mission, policies, and activities of the school library.  This month’s column, “Policy Challenges: Consequences that Restrict Borrowing,” considers the viewpoints of students, teachers, parents, and principals when late or lost books result in restricted borrowing of library books – a tricky balance of responsibility, access, school property, and developing and supporting habits of reading and using libraries.

Weighing this complicated subject – with questions like “what about teaching students to remember their books so that others can read them” and “what about kids who live in different homes during the week” –  reminds me of struggling with disciplinary measures that might prohibit my middle school students from visiting the library for a certain period of time.

I wasn’t a pushover when it came to student behavior in my work as a middle school librarian, but the relaxed atmosphere might have suggested otherwise to the untrained eye.  I had a very intentional philosophy behind what may have appeared to be a rather easy-going classroom management environment.  During most of my time as school librarian, I had three rules: Be respectful.  Be responsible. Be productive.  (Oh- and the rules in the image above aren’t mine, just a great list from maczter on Flickr.  I just really liked the idea of listening with your heart.)

But back to my rules, at the beginning of the year for study hall students, or when classes started library projects, we’d go over what these rules looked like in practice.  I wanted students to respect the space, the materials, one another, and their teachers.  Once in a while a teacher would suggest “no library” for two weeks as a consequence for something, and except in rare cases (like a very novice attempt at credit card fraud, or instances of bullying), I typically tried to steer consequences in another direction.  I wanted to help the students to see the library as a safe, inviting place for reading, information seeking, and learning, not only within the four walls of their school library, but when they encountered other libraries in new settings.  And in order to do that, I needed the kids to be in the library, not kicked out of it.  So instead, I tended toward consequences like warnings per the school handbook, reviewing of rules in a frank discussion, making a genuine apology, or if merited, assisting with an unexciting task in the library or the classroom.  I tried not to nag about inconsequential things, I focused on redirecting kids’ behavior in what I thought were important communication and life skills (like listening to each other), I encouraged active discussion not constant quiet, and I didn’t insist on “school-related” tasks during students’ independent visits to the library.  As much as it was my job to support students’ learning and information literacy, I believed it was also my job to help students gain confidence in depending on libraries and librarians.

My practice was always a work in progress, and in thinking about Judi Moreillon’s discussion of diverse perspectives on library policies, I think that I could have done a better job of communicating the reasons behind my disciplinary approach to my colleagues, the kids, and the parents.  After reading these QR articles, I think I might have gained even stronger support for building lifelong library users with some more explanation of why I handled things the way I did in the library, and I could have gained perspective on other teachers’ classroom management preferences, among other things.

How can you reflect upon and explain your library policies and choices to the school community?  What can you learn about your school community members’ priorities and questions?  A good start might be reading and thinking on more QR: Quick Remedies columns: closing the library at the start of the school year; library orientation; and no kindergarten checkout until December.

–Rebecca Morris

References: Moreillon, Judi. ““Policy Challenges: Consequences that Restrict Borrowing.” School Library Monthly 29, no. 4 (January 2013): 22-23.

Image: Some Good Rules to Live By, by maczter on Flickr. Used with a Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 License.

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

When we make library decisions, do we make them within a greater context? That’s what Buffy Hamilton considers in this must-read blog post:

Is Your Library Making Milkshake Mistakes? « The Unquiet Librarian via kwout