Looking around my desk, I am surrounded by lists: lists of library projects, quotes about reading for Instagram, titles I want to read, procedures to write up for Student Congress, faculty members to email, potential Advisory activities, PD opportunities. I am the queen of sticky note lists–they are stuck all over my desk, my paper planner (both inside and out), on my computer and piled in my top drawer. I’m surrounded by great ideas, but so often the immediate takes precedence and those great ideas remain two-dimensional, lifeless and flat like the paper on which they are written.

What if I carve out time, maybe one hour a week or two hours per month, to devote to one project, one idea, and see how far I can get with it? Progress after all is the result of consistency, not perfection. If I am consistent with spending focused time with one idea, slowly I’ll find success and be able to whittle down the to-do list.

This all sounds great, right? But what happens when I run into the inevitable stumbling block, the problem I can’t quite figure out my way around? Will I be able to keep persevering, pushing towards an answer, or will I throw up my hands and abandon the project? We all know the benefit of tapping into the collective wisdom of AISL through the listserv, but I wonder about taking it a step further–I envision meeting with a small group of librarians a few times during the school year who are each working on their own projects, strategizing and encouraging each other in turning those ideas into launched programs.

Here’s what I propose–a peer mastermind workgroup of AISL members who commit to meet online once a month to share their progress on their individual goals and who are willing to brainstorm with each other about solutions to any hurdles that may arise. I am not Type A enough to adhere to the mastermind structure set forth in this ACRL article by Susan A. Schreiner about professional mastermind groups, but some guidelines would have to be established along the lines of when and how long to meet and the structure of each session (i.e. each person has the floor for 15 minutes to share their progress and ask for input on roadblocks, etc.).

While this could feel clunky at the start, I’m willing to endure some awkwardness for the potential payoff of clarity, focus and helping each other grow in our practice as school librarians. If you, like me, are intrigued with this possibility and perhaps have an idea lurking on your to-do list that needs a little nudge to bring to fruition, I invite you to join me and share your thoughts here.

When funds or time are in short supply, passive programming is a great way to continue engagement in your library. This type of programming draws in students, builds community, and increases positive connotations with the physical space and library staff. Last year, we had three passive programming wins in our library.

#1–Wooden puzzles at the check-out desk

Absent during the pandemic, these wooden puzzles (and a mini-Jenga!) have made a huge comeback. Students specifically come to the library to try and solve these puzzles. We have a couple of students who are the expert fixers and when others take them apart and cannot rebuild them, they stop by to set everything right again. The puzzles’ close proximity to whoever is staffing the desk provide easy avenues for us to strike up conversations.

#2–Jigsaw puzzles

On and off over the years, we have had a jigsaw puzzle out on a library table. Last year, we had a dedicated puzzle table on our main floor. Different groups of students work on it throughout the day. When one puzzle is complete, another comes out. I’ve noticed the puzzle is a fantastic way for more introverted students to work on something together instead of feeling forced to talk the whole time.

#3–Question board

One of my favorite things in the Library the last few years has been our rotating question board. We use old-fashioned paper pads and Sharpie markers on a standing easel, which lives across the walkway from our check-out desk. Approximately every 4-5 school days, we change the question and stand back to watch what happens. Some questions take more thought so the answers trickle in (such as the most recent query, “What is your superpower?”) but others invite immediate responses like “Top song on your playlist”. Similarly to the wooden puzzles, the question board is close enough to the desk that we can initiate conversations based on students’ reactions and oversee (and correct when necessary) inappropriate responses. This board is a destination for our regular library users who stop to read what’s new since the last time they were in. The best part for me is seeing a group of students huddled around the board, reading others’ answers and adding their own, building community in this small way. (If you’d like a list of questions we’ve had success with this year, email me at kgrantham@jburroughs.org.)

What passive programming has been successful in your libraries?

The 2020-2021 school year: what a time to be a first-year department chair. When I applied for the library director position in December 2019 and accepted in February 2020, little did I know what drastic and sudden changes were on the horizon and the ride we were in for.

While I am still processing what changes to keep in our library and what routines should return to the way they were before the pandemic, I’m struck by the capacity of our library team to adapt to the new circumstances. I will not bore you with an exhaustive list of the changes we made (many I’m sure you had to make in your own libraries) but I am so proud of our department and what we achieved.

One demonstrative example occurred in May. Pre-pandemic, we would host Book Buffets (very similar to Reba Gordon’s speed dating) for our 7th and 8th graders to taste the books on their respective summer reading lists. English teachers would reserve a class period to bring their students to one of our library classrooms which was reset with tall, round-top tables dressed with colorful tablecloths, each with a short stack of books, several paper “buffet menus” for each student, and pencils. Students would divide among the tables, then have five minutes to start reading a book they selected from the table and complete the menu for their chosen title (which included questions such as “What genre do you think this book fits into?” and “Why or why not would you want to continue reading this book?”). At the end of the five minutes, the students rotated tables to repeat the process with a new book. Students could then check out books for the summer if they wished.

Last winter with May on the horizon, a growing sense of doubt bubbled inside me–how were we going to do Book Buffet? While we had by then a majority of students back on campus every day, we still had to keep a 6 ft. distance. All year our library classrooms were housing teachers from other departments with too-small rooms. How were we going to introduce the students to their summer reading options if we couldn’t do Book Buffet?

After realizing that there wasn’t a feasible way we could simply adapt our Book Buffet program to be held safely, I was able to release much of the anxiety I didn’t know I had been holding. I had been trying to keep as close to the original event as possible with just a few necessary tweaks, but that was not a useful option for us in this case. So instead of trying to reimagine, we created an entirely new program: Summer Reading Maze. Loosely inspired by The Maze Runner with the challenge of “survive the maze by learning about the summer reading titles”, we brainstormed possibilities for several activity stations. The maze itself would be spread out on our main floor and weave between the waist-high fiction shelves. Classes would be divided into groups to start at different points around the space, so students could stay distanced. We set up two “laser” mazes with red crepe paper taped to the bookshelves for the students to maneuver through (it was hilarious to see older students trying these between classes!). Students would hear book talks about certain titles at one station and at another, they had the opportunity to download the Sora app and learn how to access digital copies of their summer reading titles. I typed out the first line from each book on their grade’s list and created a quiz of sorts–students would read through the lines on their sheet, rate them from best to worst, then use a key to see which titles corresponded to the lines they identified as most interesting. The surprise hit of the event was the handmade, laminated book cover memory game made by a colleague.

When I contacted our English teachers to share our plan for this new program, I was a bit hesitant. What would they think about this untested event? Would they be disappointed we couldn’t do the Book Buffet they were familiar with? Would they feel the maze was a waste of time and choose not to work it into their schedule? I should not have been concerned as many teachers eagerly reserved periods to bring in their classes. We had a very busy last week of school when we hosted 12 classes in four days for Summer Reading Maze, but the enthusiasm of the students and the positive feedback from the teachers was completely worth it. Faculty shared how delighted they were that their classes had the opportunity to get out of their regular rooms and take part in an active program. Students were still exposed to the summer reading options and many checked out additional material to read over break.

Reflecting on the last school year, I was consistently in awe of the flexibility everyone in AISL showed to change things on a dime when necessary. Perhaps when we look back at the pandemic, amid the memories of working from our kitchen tables and waving to show the smiles behind our masks, we will be grateful for the capacity this time built in us for flexibility, to be adaptable in new, uncharted situations, to break away from the comfortable way we’ve always done it. Amidst all the changes this season has brought, I will be thankful for this gift.