Part 1: A Map for the Future

I have a confession. When I first started as a school librarian I had a lot of frustrations with the 300’s. Arriving in my 9-12 library after a history PhD and years as a librarian at research universities, I was intimately familiar with Library of Congress call numbers, and very rusty on Dewey. Initially, I chalked up my frustrations with Dewey–especially the way the 300’s pulled critical aspects of history out of “History” (in a 900’s sense) when it involved minority groups like women, African Americans, Native Americans, and immigrants–to a need to break my old LCC habits.
But, why do we use Dewey? Our mission is to prep our students for college level research, but we aren’t teaching them college library organization. So, I fantasized about a college prep high school library that was organized by LCC instead. What would that look like? What would we gain? What might we lose? How much work would it take? This post is the first in a series as I answer those questions.
Right now I am neck-deep in transitioning my collection from DDS to LCC, and the number one reason I committed to this work boils down to consistency of purpose. Our school prepares our students for college–and in my domain, particularly college level research and information skills. Colleges use Library of Congress call numbers. Instead of teaching my students how to navigate our library and information landscape in Dewey, then sending them off to much larger libraries that use a more expansive and totally foreign looking system and pretending I prepared them, I decided that the work is worth the potential.
Further contemplating the potential gains and losses, I realized another thing. Currently, I have to help many of my students find books in the stacks because they can’t follow a call number to the right spot on the shelves. Despite having had library instruction in lower and middle school, I consistently have students tell me they can’t find a book that, when I go to look with them, is exactly where it should be. So, it shouldn’t be extra work to teach them how to find things when they get to the upper school and encounter a new system. I am already teaching them how to find things, why not use the opportunity to teach them the system they will use as they continue their education and give them a chance to learn and practice it while they have me to provide lots of support. I also teach our 9th graders about controlled vocabularies and subject headings (see my Lego Lesson for how I do this), so switching to LCC means that I am aligning the physical shelf layout with the search language which should reduce cognitive friction: no more searching in one language (LCSH) and finding in another (DDS).
(I should note, briefly, that we genrefied our fiction collection several years ago, and it remains separate in this reclassification process. Fiction will still be labeled/shelved by genre and author last name. Reclassifying has raised some of my longstanding questions about where to put certain works of literature, ie. should Austen, Twain, etc. be in our popular reading or in 800s (now P Class) P Class? We moved our graphic novels from the 740s to our genrefied collection as their own genre. This move highlighted that short-handing our collection into “Fiction” and “Non-fiction” doesn’t really account for the 800’s/P’s or narrative non-fiction intended for popular reading, and perhaps that is why those areas of our stacks are so dusty.)
There are a few other conceptual wins that I hope will subtly help our students in their research. One is that the date of publication will be much more visible, being the 4th line of the LCC call number. Currently (pun intended), despite both me and their teachers talking about recent scholarship, many students compose preliminary bibliographies with deeply out of date resources despite more current ones being available on the shelf. Our students often treat the publication date as a ‘post-production’ detail—something for the bibliography. By making the year the fourth line of the call number, we move currency to the ‘pre-production’ phase. It turns the shelf into a physical timeline. A student looking for Vietnam War research can now visually distinguish between a primary source published in 1967 and a historiography published in 2024 without even opening the cover. I hope that the increased visibility will enable my students to start paying more attention.
Circling back to my problem with the 300s, reclassification is shifting where things sit on the shelves in ways that largely brings books together by topic. Reclassifying is healing the fractures that previously existed, particularly for topics that used to sit in the 300s rather than 900s. For example, a student looking at the American Civil Rights Movement in our shelves would have to move from books in 301 (Social Structure), then move over 12 shelves to 305.48 (Women), then another 3 shelves to find 305.8 (Ethnic and National Groups), before moving 15 shelves down in another aisle to find books at 320 (Political Science, Politics and Government), then 4 more shelves down to 323 (Civil and Political Rights), before finally needing to go half way across the library (5 aisles of stacks over) to get to 973.8 (History, US, 1901-). As we reclassify to LCC, our students can find all of those same books at E185 (United States–Afro-Americans–Status and development since emancipation). Other works, like certain literary non-fiction (The Journey Home, by Edward Abbey, for example) are moving out of history and to language/literature. In the case of Abbey, reuniting this work with his others in PS3551 (American Literature by authors, 1900-1960). In a future post, once all the data is complete, I’ll share more about what shifts and where in this transition, but so far numerous topics–like civil rights–are feeling more coherent.
(I am also in the midst of a large and long overdue weeding project that will make dated options less available. But, even so, I  notice that many of the books our students request through our borrowing partnership with a local university are also frequently very old, despite other options being available.)
Given these advantages, it’s important to acknowledge why I struggled to find examples of schools that use LCC. The two most powerful–and entwined–reasons are tradition and inertia. School and public libraries use Dewey. And, because our school libraries are already using Dewey (tradition), the real, time consuming, and challenging work of reclassifying an entire library is a major obstacle (inertia). If we set those aside–I’ll come back to the latter in subsequent posts in this series–we may find that we encounter the ideas of tradition and inertia among our faculty and administrators as well. To anticipate and respond to faculty push-back, I hope that the reasons above will speak for themselves. But, for other resistance, your individual context may hold the keys. At our school, our faculty have a fierce independent streak. This worked to my advantage in some ways as it means I have a large degree of independence in my space, too–I didn’t need to present this change as a proposal to our faculty or make much of a case at all. Within the context of teacher and department autonomy, the library is seen as my domain so I am trusted to do what I think is best.
Also particular to my context, I am moving our whole collection to a new library in a new upper school building this summer. Potential faculty discomfort at not knowing their way around the space as well (“the books about Europe have always been right there!”) is moot–everything is moving anyway. To mitigate the “lost” feeling, I am also investing heavily in clear, disciplinary signage—using the faculty’s own language (e.g., flagging subclasses in DS (Asia) for Middle East, South Asia, and East Asia, the regional history classes we teach, instead of just ‘DS’) to bridge the gap. Even without moving buildings, clear signage or maps can mitigate the fear of being disoriented.
Ultimately, I identify reclassifying as a pedagogical act of backwards design. My goal is to teach students to do research of a high caliber so they are prepared to do research at the college level when they graduate. Reclassifying my collection isn’t, then, a clerical library task; it’s an act of information architecture–turning our stacks into the infrastructure of instruction. By aligning our shelves with the systems of the academy, I am giving our students a map that doesn’t expire at graduation–quite literally changing the shape of their research journey.

By Maria Falgoust & Jon French

At International School of Brooklyn (ISB), we believe stories have the power to unite, inspire, and spark curiosity across ages and cultures.

This belief is reflected by our multilingual library collection, the heart of our school’s Learning Commons. It is expressed daily in our students’ ability to express themselves in French, English, and Spanish. ISB students understand the power of a story; we hear them tell their own, retell those of their friends and families, and question which ones are worth reading. Yet, we have also recognized that the gift of oral storytelling is a bit of a lost art. There is something galvanizing about a person as a story. Within a singular person is all that one needs for a story: sound, movement, language, narrative, and connection.

We wanted to share that enchantment with our students and larger community in the form of live oral storytelling events. We were able to do just that with the help of the Vision to Reality Grant.
This dream—or vision!—first materialized with a visit from award-winning storyteller, singer, and actress April Armstrong. Using funds from the Vision to Reality Grant, the ISB Library invited April for a day of musical folktales and workshops. In our Lower School morning assembly, April shared “The Sandpiper and the Whale,” a clever Marshall Islands story of a boastful whale and a resourceful sandpiper whose playful rivalry nearly drained the ocean until ingenuity and teamwork saved the day. Students also laughed along with “Crocodile and Hen,” a warm tale of kinship and connection, accompanied by the legendary musician Mario E. Sprouse, whose guitar and percussion brought each character to life.

Later in the day, April led second graders in storytelling workshops that combined improvisation games, performance tips, and audience engagement techniques. Then, she challenged second grade students to take a classic nursery rhyme (“Wee Willie Winkie”) and bring it to life with a breath of fiery storytelling. Some students were impassioned to recite their poem with tears and tissues while others were inspired by April’s advice to use their bodies and tell a story with both words and movement. Our second grade students left April’s workshop with a stronger set of acting chops and the understanding that a story is only as powerful as the voice—or voices!—with which they tell it. 

With ISB lower school students freshly enchanted by the magic of storytelling, our library team decided that it was time to spread that narrative charm with the greater school and Brooklyn community.

Enter: Brooklyn Beanstalk.

Brooklyn Beanstalk is an NYC-based, arts-driven educational organization that offers Spanish and French immersion and creative enrichment programs for children from 16 months through elementary school. Using the gift of Vision to Reality, along with funding from our PA, the library team commissioned Brooklyn Beanstalk to put on an all-ages show that would once again remind our community that stories can be more than words on a page. Stephanie Larriere, founder of Brooklyn Beanstalk, wasn’t short of ideas when approached about the project.

The performance, Stephanie told us, would be a cantastoria. This word was a new one to us librarians, but we were quickly brought up to speed. A cantastoria, it turns out, is an ageless traveling oral art form—street theater storytelling, sung and acted by live performers, and accompanied by a visual support of painted banners, scrolls, or placards to illustrate the story.
What story, though? And how? The answer started with even more questions.
What is Happiness? Felicidad? Le Bonheur? When do I find it? How do you reach it? Where is it? Can we measure it?

These were the questions at the root of what Stephanie and Brooklyn Beanstalk wanted to ask the ISB community through the performance. So, we surveyed students, faculty, and staff with questions about happiness and shared those responses to help Stephanie and her team prepare a script. Concurrently, our youngest students worked with their teachers to paint their responses on fabric banners, while second graders created drawings of their ideas and then embroidered them onto fabric with help from parents, faculty, and staff volunteers.

It was a true labor of love, as Stephanie and Brooklyn Beanstalk wove these contributions directly into their performance. The result was a story that highlighted how it is the little things in life, the creature comforts, and the people with whom we share them that make us smile, laugh, and even jump for joy. The truth behind this simple message of love and appreciation was underscored by the success of this low-fi, supremely collaborative, all-hands-on-deck, yet wholly thrilling spectacle!

With such a special performance in store for our community, we felt it only appropriate to open with an even more special guest. Turning our sights toward our school community, we invited an ISB alum Zack Pope (Class of 2023) to provide a prologue of sorts for “Stories We Share” with a moving and funny monologue from the musical You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown and a brilliant and profound rendition of the song “Unruly Heart” from the musical Prom. Zack’s performance reminded us once again that a story’s true power comes not only from its words, but from the heart and soul of the person who tells it.

As librarians, we recognized that stories don’t end with the final page, a last breath, or a curtain call. Naturally, after the performance, our colleague and fellow story advocate Paul Romano helped us digest the performance through a Q&A with Stephanie, Zack, and the Brooklyn Beanstalk players.  It was apparent that this audience of all ages had plenty to talk about: 

“What does the big blue puppet represent?” one kindergartener asked.

“Why are you wearing red and yellow?” wondered another student.

A fourth grader raised a question about the inclusion of a Venezuelan flag in the visuals.

Students laughed and cheered (and snacked) throughout the performance, but they also demonstrated thoughtful engagement, moving naturally from enjoyment of the story to focused, reflective inquiry.

Parents, too, seemed excited and sometimes bewildered by this truly unique experience. Rebekah Wallin, an ISB Parent and Library Committee Co-Chair, had this to say to her fellow library committee members:

“I don’t know about you, but I’m still thinking about the Pursuit of Happiness two days later… and not just because my five-year-old keeps reminding me that happiness is Legos. My favorite part was probably hearing the laughter and chatter from all of the surprised and delighted kids sitting upfront during the show. Both of my kids were thrilled to be a part of this one-of-a-kind experience. Something about the imaginative, tactile, musical, zany, DIY nature of the cantastoria has stuck with them, and I think they will carry it with them for a long time. I’m excited to see how this inspires our kids’ future creative endeavors.”

From April Armstrong’s playful folktales to Brooklyn Beanstalk’s cantastoria, our library continues to be a space where stories inspire curiosity, empathy, and joy—reminding us that no matter our age or the languages we speak, we are all connected through the stories we share.

Bios:

Maria Falgoust is the Head Librarian at International School of Brooklyn (ISB), an IB school with immersion programs in French and Spanish, where she works with students from pre-K through eighth grade. With over two decades of experience in independent schools, she is passionate about building community through books, fostering curiosity, and creating inclusive, joyful library spaces. Maria is especially interested in bringing unique programs, meaningful conversations, and a sense of humor into the library.

Jon French is a librarian at International School of Brooklyn (ISB), where he supports a student-centered, inquiry-driven library program grounded in the IB framework. He partners closely with teachers to integrate information literacy, research skills, and educational technology into classroom learning, while curating a diverse, academically and personally relevant collection that supports a strong culture of reading and curiosity.

Exploring Book Genres through Makey Makey & Scratch
Fifth graders combined literacy and technology in a unique project.
Step 1: Read & Analyze
Each student pair read a Caldecott Award–winning book and explored its genre, discussing story elements, themes, and illustrations.

Step 2: Write & Script
After identifying the genre, students wrote short scripts that captured key aspects of their book—like a mini book trailer or dramatic reading.

Step 3: Code & Create
Using Scratch, they programmed their recordings and animations to tell their story.

Step 4: Tinker & Play
Finally, they connected their projects to a Makey Makey, turning physical objects (like book covers) into interactive controls to play their recordings!
Visitors can press a touch a sensor to hear students’ book summaries and learn about the genre and book—an engaging blend of reading, writing, coding, and hands-on tinkering!

Hello again! I am back with the promised Gingerbread Competition!
I took what I learned hosting the pumpkin carving and made some changes and we ended up with a 60 (!!!) gingerbread houses decorated this past week. Riding a sugar high over here.

This time, I advertised the program starting the Monday before. We shared a flyer in the student e-news, displayed it in the library, and ran it on the TVs around campus. I skipped advance sign-ups and instead made it clear that supplies were first come, first served, with a limit of ten houses per day. This took some logistical pressure off me.
I gathered all the supplies the week prior and built the first round of houses on Friday before the weekend. Gingerbread is a bit of a misnomer here, as the houses were built with graham crackers. I pre-built everything for two reasons: children are messy creatures, and graham cracker houses need time to set before decorating. I wanted students to spend their time creating, not waiting for walls to stop sliding apart!

Full disclosure, I have been building these houses for groups for years. I am pretty good at them. A middle schooler timed me this week, and I can assemble a house in 42 seconds! If you want a tutorial, I am always happy to share. My two biggest tips are to use Walmart brand graham crackers and the cheapest store-bought icing you can find. That icing dries like concrete.
We set the houses out on plates around a large table covered in plastic dollar store tablecloths. I offered icing in disposable piping bags in both white and green. Do not dye green icing yourself! You can buy tubs of it at the dollar store and save yourself the trouble.

For decorations, we had lots of options, but the most popular were Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal, mini candy canes, mini M&Ms, pull-and-peel Twizzlers, pretzels, and of course the icing. All candy was kept in bowls on a table where I stationed myself, and students came up to select what they wanted rather than having free access at the decorating tables. This encouraged more intentional choices and allowed us to gently remind them not to eat the candy, given how many hands had been in those bowls.

They still ate the candy. I did what I could!
Monday was slow, and I once again had to remind myself that the beginning of a program is not a measure of its success. Students do not read emails, and word of mouth takes time. I recruited a few of my frequent library visitors to decorate that first day, and later that evening an entire basketball team came in for study hall and enthusiastically built houses they were genuinely proud of. After that, the floodgates opened. Students streamed in all week asking about the gingerbread houses!
This time, we posted the ribbon categories ahead of time, and several students decorated very intentionally with winning in mind. I recruited our Head of School to award a ribbon as well this time, and the kids thought that was particularly exciting. They checked back regularly to see when prizes would be awarded, and the students who earned ribbons were incredibly proud. As they should have been!

Watching this program unfold was such a joy, and I cannot thank the Vision to Reality Grant team enough for funding this kind of library fun. I will be back in February with another program and, if all goes according to plan, another full library!

Welcome to my first AISL blog post!
This is my second year as a K-5 independent school library media specialist and eleventh year as an elementary school educator. Thanks to the generous award of the AISL Vision to Reality Grant, I was funded and able to host an author visit for second through fifth grade students. We were thrilled to welcome Shamim Okolloh and her son, Liam Sprinkle, co-authors of the 2023 children’s book Ella the Banker. Both authors are Native Arkansans based in Little Rock, and they made the trip to visit our school in Fayetteville, AR.
Their book focuses on the importance of introducing financial literacy at an early age through the story of Ella, a second grader who takes a field trip to a bank and learns about its behind-the-scenes operations and the different types of banking. The message aligns beautifully with a beloved project at our school—the second grade Holiday Store.
Each year, our second graders visit a local bank, apply for (and receive!) a loan to purchase
materials for the crafts they create. They then sell their handmade items at school, and the
funds raised are used to buy gifts for families in need within our school and community.
Ella the Banker provided the perfect narrative connection to this real-world learning experience, and having the authors on campus made financial literacy and banking feel even more exciting, real, and accessible to our students.
Ella the Banker is available for purchase at Walmart, Target, Barnes & Noble, and Amazon. Add a copy to your library, more than 5,000 copies have already been sold!

Welcome to the first post in my series about luring students into the library—with programming, not bribery. Though honestly, both can be effective.

This is my second year as Director of Library Services, and my focus for the year is building community. Last year was all about the logistics—reworking the collection, rearranging furniture, and figuring out which light switches controlled which parts of the library. This year, I’m leaning hard into the fun stuff: being everywhere, doing everything, and getting students to do all the library things.

Thanks to the AISL Vision to Reality Grant, I get to go big with that goal. My proposal centered around the idea that a little friendly competition can go a long way toward creating community—and filling the library. I’ve always believed libraries aren’t just quiet study spaces or shelves of decorative books. They’re safe, lively spaces where everyone should feel like they belong. And when programming makes the library approachable and fun, the books practically start walking off the shelves themselves.

Our school is a 6–12 boarding school, with about half our students local and half international. One thing they all share? A deep, abiding love of competition. Give them a ribbon, a pin, or even bragging rights, and they’re all in. And let’s be honest—sometimes the lower the stakes, the higher the bragging rights. So this fall, I kicked off our competitive programming with something delightfully old-school: a Pumpkin Carving Contest. Nostalgia meets rivalry—it’s the perfect recipe. In just three days, 35 students carved pumpkins. I call that a serious programming win.

How It All Came Together

Step one: confirm I was, in fact, allowed to give students sharp objects. (An underrated but essential step.)

Once I had the official thumbs-up, I started promoting the event about two weeks out. It’s hard to identify a sweet spot for programming —too early and they forget, too late and they’ve filled their schedule with other Very Important Teenage Things. But two weeks seemed to work out for this.

Promotion went out in the weekly student e-news, on the TVs around campus, by the library sign-in station, and via a community-wide email. Students signed up through a simple SignUpGenius—five slots per class block for upper schoolers, and a separate lunch option for middle schoolers. About two-thirds of our carvers signed up in advance, which, for a first run, felt like victory.

Then came the pumpkin hunt. I checked local farms and big box stores, but Walmart’s $3.97 pumpkins beat everyone else’s $10 price tags. Supporting local business is wonderful—but so is staying within budget. I enlisted my oldest child and my husband to help me and we relieved a few local Walmarts of their pumpkins purchasing 40 pumpkins overall and drawing a lot of attention from other shoppers.

Our activities department already had carving tools, so all I needed were blue ribbons for prizes and battery-powered tea lights from the dollar store—three for $1.25. Librarian math loves a bargain.

Our campus is spread across multiple buildings, with the library being its own building, so I was able to hold the event outside. Facilities set up tables, chairs, and a giant trash barrel, and I silently prayed to Mother Nature. Thankfully, she came through. I also pre-scooped all the pumpkins myself—partly to save students time, and partly because I didn’t want pumpkin guts decorating the front steps.

The Big Carve

When we returned from fall break, the library patio was ready for action. The first day started slow, so my library assistant and I began the old-fashioned way: walking up to kids and asking, “Hey, want to carve a pumpkin?” The secret? Never ask just one student. Ask a pair. Peer pressure for good, not evil. Also don’t limit yourself to the library. I asked kids at lunch, during class, whenever I saw them around campus. There was no escaping me!

By the end of day one, I’d gone from worrying about leftover pumpkins to wondering if we had enough. The windows along the library’s front made perfect viewing for the pumpkin action outside. We popped out to chat, admire designs, and offer the occasional pep talk. Most students proudly called us over to admire their finished masterpieces—because no one, no matter how cool, ever outgrows wanting praise.

On Friday afternoon, I placed tea lights inside all the finished pumpkins and lit them up. The whole display glowed through the weekend, and it looked amazing. We awarded ribbons in five categories: “Ms. Pratt’s Favorite,” “Ms. Stiefel’s Favorite,” “Spookiest,” “Cutest,” and “Most Traditional.” The students were thrilled to see either their or a friend’s pumpkin get chosen!

Lessons Learned

All in all, a smashing success! I’ll absolutely run it again next year. There’s something magical about recurring programs—they become little traditions students actually look forward to.

Next time, I’ll lean harder into the competition side. Bigger signage for categories, maybe display the ribbons ahead of time, and definitely turn the awards and lighting into a mini-event. I picture pumpkins glowing after dark, hot cocoa in hand, and everyone pretending to be serious judges.

Also, note to self: wipe tables daily. Dried pumpkin residue can rival super glue in strength. 

How You Can Adapt It

I’m lucky to have outdoor space, supportive colleagues, and a schedule that allows time for carving chaos. But even without those things, you can absolutely do your own spin.

Try smaller sugar pumpkins with acrylic paint pens, or paper jack-o’-lanterns hung in the library windows. The key ingredients—creativity, friendly competition, and a dash of seasonal spirit—are free.If you have questions or want to trade programming ideas, feel free to reach out. And stay tuned—next up in my quest for programming domination: gingerbread houses.

Like many school librarians, I like to post what I’m reading so the kids can see that I
practice what I preach! I especially enjoy posting what I read over the summer, since I have
more time to read then. Following a rather too-eventful summer in 2024, I decided to
schedule in more down time this year—aka reading time! The AISL Summer Book Bingo
provided the perfect starting incentive, and I was determined to fill all 25 of the squares,
which I did. I really enjoyed the opportunity to read some books that differed from my usual
fare (I mean, Japanese Cat Lit? Who knew that was a thing? ).

I also read a lot of other books, primarily audiobooks. I listen to audiobooks in the car,
when I’m getting ready in the morning, when I’m out walking, and when I’m getting ready for
bed (that’s cozy mystery time!). While public library is a great source of audiobooks, if you
are not familiar with the Libro.FM program for educators, definitely check it out! Every
month it offers educators something like 20 free, pre-chosen audiobooks, and I love getting
that email and going to the site to see what they have on offer. Though I generally choose
the middle school books, as that’s my student population, the site always offers a number
of YA titles and several adult books as well. I love that this program leads me to discover
books I wouldn’t otherwise encounter or read, like The Mizzy Mysteries: A Skeleton in the
Closet by Claire Hatcher-Smith. In this family mystery, the detective has Down’s Syndrome,
and the audiobook is read by a person with Down’s.
Last night I used LibraryThing to put together a graphic of the covers of all the books I read
over the summer, which I will post by my desk for the kids to see when they arrive. One of
the site’s useful tools is that after you enter books by title or ISBN into a list, it can generate
thumbnail covers of all the books in that list. From there, I used the snipping tool to put
together my graphic.
Welcome back, and I hope you find some wonderful books this year!

This summer we are taking a different approach to summer reading at The Oakridge School by combining suggested reading with options for other activities. These include ways to delve into art, culture, science, sports, literature, service and technology.  We are calling this platform: Commit to Curiosity. I am still a huge proponent of required reading for the summer; (with lots of choices), but for now Oakridge has opted for suggested reads.  Lower and middle school students are excited about summer book bingo  – possibly because of the raffle and gift cards on the line.  (I am excited about AISL Bingo!)

I think the key to success will be promotion, promotion, promotion. We’re marketing the guide with a student created commercial, and social media combined with our school website will hopefully keep the momentum going.  The students also have an option to keep up with their activities in a “passport” book. Links to the Bingo Boards are in the platform under Literature. 

We are almost there!

Happy Summer!

Patricia deWinter

I love my job for a variety of reasons, so here’s my top ten!

1.  Sharing a favorite book with a class is magic.  Kate DiCamillo’s Tale of Despereaux, (or anything by Di’Camillo, LOVE Raymie Nightingale), There’s a Boy in the Girl’s Bathroom by Louis Sachar, For Every One by Jason Reynolds, Loser by Jerry Spinelli, From the Desk of Zoe Washington by Janae Marks, Ms. Bixby’s Last Day by John David Anderson, Save Me a Seat by Sarah Weeks and Larger than Life Lara by Dandi Mackall are books I describe as life changing. Experiencing an exceptional book as a group creates a unique bond.  “When we read together, we connect. Together, we see the world. Together, we see one another” (Kate DiCamillo).

2. I get to share really hilarious books with my students.   I Really Like Slop by Mo Willems, The Legend of Rock Paper Scissors by Drew Daywalt, Creepy Pair of Underwear by Aaron Reynolds, Exclamation Mark by Amy Krouse Rosenthal, Humpty Dumpty Falls Again by Dave Horowitz, Pssst! by Adam Rex, and Seventeen Things I’m Not Allowed to Do Anymore by Jenny Offill are guaranteed to fill your space with giggling students. That’s a pretty nice way to spend your day.

3.  Books such as Wilma Unlimited by Kathleen Krull, The Two Bobbies by Kibby Larson, Adrian Simcox Does Not Have a Horse by Marcy Campbell, Henry’s Freedom Box by Ellen Levine,  The Yellow Star: The Legend of King Christian X of Denmark by Carmen Agra Deedy,  Love by Matt de la Pena, My Secret Bully by Trudy Ludwig, and Ida, Always by Caron Levis are some of many inspiring reads that foster empathy. And I’ve placed a few powerful read alouds in their own category- must reads.  This group includes:  Rumplestiltskin retold by Paul O. Zelinski, Flotsam by David Wiesner, The Wall in the Middle of the Book by Jon Agee, Drawn Together by Minh Le, and Sam and Dave Dig a Hole by Mac Barnett. “When we read together – we are taken out of our aloneness. The story opens doors for us; and we, in turn, open the doors of our hearts to each other. When we read together, we welcome each other in” (Kate DiCamillo).

4. I learn so much from our collection of books, and enjoy showing off my knowledge about sharks, giant squids, tsunamis, the Middle Ages, pirates, hero dogs, Greek mythology, and Bigfoot to my friends! This has definitely improved my skills at trivia games 🙂

5.  Getting new books feels like your birthday, every time.

6.  When working with Upper School English students, I revisit incredible novels such as Beloved, The Handmaid’s Tale, The Great Gatsby, The Poisonwood Bible, Fahrenheit 451, and The Joy Luck Club; this makes me happy!  It’s a joy to take this journey with them and connect over literature with really bright, invested students. 

7.  I am the head librarian at a prek-12 grade school; the sole librarian for students age 3 to 18. I watch these students grow and hopefully support them along the way.

8. Our school hosts incredible guest authors like Sarah Weeks,  Nathan Hale, Jerry Pallotta, Aaron Reynolds, and Chris Grabenstein.
9. It’s a privilege to be the person students come to for book recommedations, because they trust me, my knowlege about literature, and my understanding of what they like. A good part of my week is helping students find the perfect read, and then finding out how they felt about the book.
10. My homework is reading!

When I tell people I am a librarian, I often get various responses. One is, “You don’t look like a librarian,” as if they anticipated a shushing, grimacing battleaxe.  The other response I get is, “Do people still go to the library?”  Both questions, while annoying, encourage me in my pursuit of offering top notch customer service in my library to deflate that stereotype and encourage patron usage. Therefore, it is my goal to assist every guest who walks through the library door with the same friendly, quality customer service.

When I am introduced to new students or touring families, I emphasize that I will ALWAYS help them and that our library is a place they can utilize anytime.  I express that I LIKE to help them, that is my job and it makes me happy.  While I truly enjoy working with my students, I also perceive that everyone at my school is responsible for recruitment and retention of students, and my job depends on enrollment. I am on the lookout for students who need help, and if they don’t ask, I ask them. I thank them for coming, because truly, without their patronage,  I am irrelevant.  I became an educator because I like working with students.

I believe it is crucial that I know my patrons, and if possible I find out what  they like to read.  I have an office, but I never use it; I sit at the circulation desk where I am visible and approachable.  I greet visitors with eye contact, a smile, and by name. My “superpower” is learning student names. The greeting and the smile go a long way; I have had students and alumni tell me how much it meant to them to be cheerfully welcomed to the space every day.  This creates, through word of mouth, an understanding that our school library is a safe and welcoming place and as a result we accrue more patrons.

I have had to train my aide to “take the extra step” in terms of patron support.  I had a similar experience with another librarian colleague I worked with at a different school who expressed that I was “too nice.”   I don’t think I am doing permanent academic damage to a student if I lead him/her to Shakespeare’s plays, or grab A Midsummer Night’s  Dream for the student, as opposed to writing down the card catalog number and sending them on their way.  For one, I think the student will more likely remember the positive service  than how the Dewey Decimal System classifies drama.  I also think teens and tweens are often  overwhelmed, and I typically give them the benefit of the doubt. The sullen teen can usually be won over with respect, courtesy and friendliness; it’s important to realize that we never really know what is happening in their lives.   I think about  my own experiences as a customer, and how perturbed I get when an employee at a hardware store expects me to find an Allen wrench hex key when I have no idea what it is or what it’s for.  Similarly, I am not too happy when employees at my favorite grocery store ignore me while they engage in casual conversation.  I try to put the student first – and address their needs even if I am mid task or have been talking with staff members. I get a little bit unhinged when teachers arrive to pick up their class from the library, but instead engage in small talk leaving their students to become more and more boisterous, which is only to be expected. 

It’s important to “keep up appearances.”  It’s a lot of work, but I’ve made the holiday tree of books several times with hundreds of books and strands and strands of lights.  We have book art, rotating displays, interactive bulletin boards, lights and whatever else I can dream up, steal from other libraries or find on Pinterest to make the space  inviting and fun.  Our comfortable seating and manipulatives have been limited because of Covid-19, but we are adjusting. Contests as well as a no fine policy have also promoted good will and increased usage in the library.

Every interaction matters. According to  Anthony Molaro,  Assistant Professor, Graduate School of Business and Professional Studies at St. Catherine University,   “A worldview that sees library users as patrons is one in which the patron  is above libraries. According to this worldview, we should feel lucky that they support our work, and we are forever indebted to them. Some people call this term archaic, while others have no idea what a library patron even is. In the end, the perception is that the patron is above us.”  

Especially at independent schools, where tuition can be incredibly high, customer service makes all the difference in creating relationships between staff, students and families.  It should be a priority for all library staff. 

“Information Activist.” Library Journal, vol. 136, no. 5, Mar. 2011, p. 50. EBSCOhost,

Pundsack, Karen. “Customer or Patrons? How You Look at Your Users. Affects Customer Service.” Public Libraries Online, Mar. 2015,