My 2010 This I Believe Manifesto
Monday, December 13th, 2010
photo © 2008 Mike Baird | more info (via: Wylio)
Last year, I began what I hope is a useful tradition in my media for children and young adults class. We take 20-30 minutes of class time and reflect on what we’ve learned and what we now believe in one of these formats:
A “This I Believe” essay
A policy statement
A Children’s or Young Adult Bill of Rights
A philosophical statement for their employment portfolio
Some other format
Last year, the manifestos were so moving. You know, in graduate school — and I think it’s true in K-12 as well — we ask our students to produce and produce and produce. And, even though we tell them to be themselves, there’s a piece of the game called education that asks them to mimic who we are and what we believe.
On top of that, we (the generic “we,” not any specific colleagues of mine) rarely give them time to reflect on what they’ve learned. Our graduate students are slammed at the end of the term. They’re exhausted. So I don’t want to give them one more piece of homework in which they feel they have to mimic me or which will stress them out further. I have decided that it’s a good use of class time to give them this reflective time. (Even though it freaks me out that they don’t talk for half an hour, which is not normal around here.)
This fall, my first as a full-time professor and as an aunt of a K-12 student, has brought many changes to my thinking and to my approach to children’s lit. Sometimes, Auntie Kristin and Professor Kristin come into conflict. What I want for my niece and nephew might not be the same as what ALA wants us to want. The rapidly-expanding digital reading wave, which I’ve found myself enjoying via NetGalley.com more than I ever imagined, is turning libraries once again on their proverbial heads.
I try, in this course, to hold myself accountable for the things I require my students to do. They read/view/experience 50 resources, and so do I. So I always promise to write a manifesto, too.
Here’s my children’s manifesto for 2010:
I believe that children are capable of deep learning and understanding. Rich resources help them meet their capabilities in a way that feels rewarding and pleasurable.
I believe that we show them that we believe in their capabilities, in part, by the resources we share with them and the ways in which we interact with them.
I believe that children deserve access to materials they think are high-quality and those we think are high-quality, regardless of socioeconomic status.
I believe I need to do more than pay lip-service to that statement.
I believe that binary statements like, “Print books will be dead in ten years,” force adults into taking sides over an issue isn’t an either/or issue. I’m rather happy with a stove, a microwave, and a toaster oven. Each serves a different purpose for me, and I don’t feel I need to pitch all but one. The emergence of digital reading doesn’t necessarily mandate that all print will go away, though it certainly will diminish. I don’t believe we have to choose between print and digital reading, and I believe that leaping too fast might pull our metaphorical hamstring.
I believe that we don’t know enough about the benefits and constraints of digital reading to make a firm decision yet, but that I need to become fluent in both media in order to serve patrons effectively. After all, some studies show that college students overwhelmingly prefer print textbooks, even as some universities push forward with 100% digital adoption.
I believe that bedtime reading with a young child is one of the most emotionally connected moments of the day.
I believe in the value of resources that are free of advertising, brands, or licensed characters.
I believe that great libraries and great librarians help kids know themselves.
I believe in the future of librarians and libraries to navigate choppy waters of change.
I believe that we need more books that reflect the multicultural, complex world in which we live.
I believe that Ranganathan’s Laws still matter.
I believe that sometimes we spend too much time making crafts with kids that correspond to characters and settings in a book when we could be supporting their conversations about those books. There’s a reason this magazine changed its name from School Library Media Activities Monthly to School Library Monthly!
Many of you conclude your work week and will leap right into vacation and holiday planning when the bell rings on Friday … or a few days after that. Won’t you take a minute to reflect on your own values and beliefs? It’s rather amazing what pops up when you gift yourself a half-hour of reflection.
photo © 2008 Mike Baird | more info (via: Wylio)
Last year, I began what I hope is a useful tradition in my media for children and young adults class. We take 20-30 minutes of class time and reflect on what we’ve learned and what we now believe in one of these formats:
-
A “This I Believe” essay
A policy statement
A Children’s or Young Adult Bill of Rights
A philosophical statement for their employment portfolio
Some other format
Last year, the manifestos were so moving. You know, in graduate school — and I think it’s true in K-12 as well — we ask our students to produce and produce and produce. And, even though we tell them to be themselves, there’s a piece of the game called education that asks them to mimic who we are and what we believe.
On top of that, we (the generic “we,” not any specific colleagues of mine) rarely give them time to reflect on what they’ve learned. Our graduate students are slammed at the end of the term. They’re exhausted. So I don’t want to give them one more piece of homework in which they feel they have to mimic me or which will stress them out further. I have decided that it’s a good use of class time to give them this reflective time. (Even though it freaks me out that they don’t talk for half an hour, which is not normal around here.)
This fall, my first as a full-time professor and as an aunt of a K-12 student, has brought many changes to my thinking and to my approach to children’s lit. Sometimes, Auntie Kristin and Professor Kristin come into conflict. What I want for my niece and nephew might not be the same as what ALA wants us to want. The rapidly-expanding digital reading wave, which I’ve found myself enjoying via NetGalley.com more than I ever imagined, is turning libraries once again on their proverbial heads.
I try, in this course, to hold myself accountable for the things I require my students to do. They read/view/experience 50 resources, and so do I. So I always promise to write a manifesto, too.
Here’s my children’s manifesto for 2010:
I believe that children are capable of deep learning and understanding. Rich resources help them meet their capabilities in a way that feels rewarding and pleasurable.
I believe that we show them that we believe in their capabilities, in part, by the resources we share with them and the ways in which we interact with them.
I believe that children deserve access to materials they think are high-quality and those we think are high-quality, regardless of socioeconomic status.
I believe I need to do more than pay lip-service to that statement.
I believe that binary statements like, “Print books will be dead in ten years,” force adults into taking sides over an issue isn’t an either/or issue. I’m rather happy with a stove, a microwave, and a toaster oven. Each serves a different purpose for me, and I don’t feel I need to pitch all but one. The emergence of digital reading doesn’t necessarily mandate that all print will go away, though it certainly will diminish. I don’t believe we have to choose between print and digital reading, and I believe that leaping too fast might pull our metaphorical hamstring.I believe that we don’t know enough about the benefits and constraints of digital reading to make a firm decision yet, but that I need to become fluent in both media in order to serve patrons effectively. After all, some studies show that college students overwhelmingly prefer print textbooks, even as some universities push forward with 100% digital adoption.
I believe that bedtime reading with a young child is one of the most emotionally connected moments of the day.
I believe in the value of resources that are free of advertising, brands, or licensed characters.
I believe that great libraries and great librarians help kids know themselves.
I believe in the future of librarians and libraries to navigate choppy waters of change.
I believe that we need more books that reflect the multicultural, complex world in which we live.
I believe that Ranganathan’s Laws still matter.
I believe that sometimes we spend too much time making crafts with kids that correspond to characters and settings in a book when we could be supporting their conversations about those books. There’s a reason this magazine changed its name from School Library Media Activities Monthly to School Library Monthly!
Many of you conclude your work week and will leap right into vacation and holiday planning when the bell rings on Friday … or a few days after that. Won’t you take a minute to reflect on your own values and beliefs? It’s rather amazing what pops up when you gift yourself a half-hour of reflection.






