In Search of the Cross-Curricular Unicorn

Some people remind you why you keep pushing the work through the mud. At Bokmässan I reconnected with two dear teachers who do exactly that. Their creativity, humour and devotion to their students brought me back to a question that has stayed with me since my thesis: how much better could our libraries and systems be if the people who use them had a real hand in shaping them?

I hadn’t been to Bokmässan since the year I published that thesis. Returning brought the questions I asked then into conversations with the people helping me work through them now. Back then, I argued that library systems are all flawed because there are gaps in understanding between librarians, users and developers. Each group knows something the others need. Yet that knowledge does not always travel far enough to shape the system they all end up using. A librarian knows why a seemingly small detail matters in daily practice. A user knows where the experience becomes confusing or frustrating. A developer knows what is possible, what is difficult and what a particular choice will mean further down the line.

Getting those perspectives into the same conversation takes serious work.

My Peeps

Those two teachers remind me why I value these relationships so much. Their loyalty and total devotion to their students run through everything they do. These are my peeps. The people who help push the work through the mud. Who bring ideas, questions and a clarity about what matters that can cut through a very tangled discussion. Their creative force is remarkable, and it comes with a deep understanding of the students they teach. A school can have many teachers but usually only one librarian. It can be quite lonely in an adolescent crowd. Working closely with teachers gives me people to think with, try things with and turn to when an idea gets stuck. Their questions sharpen my thinking, and their humour helps when the work is overwhelming. I value that company as much as I value what we make together.

Being adopted by a teacher pack is something I'll treasure always. It also changes the work. Teachers bring the classroom into the conversation: the students, the pressures, the possibilities, and the distance between a promising idea and something that will actually work on a Tuesday morning. Their involvement makes it possible to ask better questions before we settle too comfortably into our answers.

A Shelf Worth Caring About 

That involvement belongs in the library collection, too. Get teachers involved in shaping the shelves for their subjects. Give them a hand in choosing the books, finding the gaps and thinking about what might draw their students in. A subject shelf can become something they care about and take pride in. Something they contribute to, talk about and bring students back to. The engagement starts with them and a teacher's enthusiasm gives a book somewhere to go and a collection becomes more useful when the librarian's knowledge of books meets the teacher's knowledge of the subject and the students.

Then there are the possibilities between the shelves.

A book that belongs in one subject can open a conversation in another. Teachers start noticing what their colleagues are working with, and connections begin to appear. You might even catch a glimpse of that elusive cross-curricular unicorn everyone is chasing. 

They Came Back

The students at Bokmässan offered another reminder of what happens when you invite people into the work. One day, high-school students; the next, college students. Cinnamon buns helped lure them in for sure, and we talked about their hopes and dreams. Then I gave them a task: go out into the fair, find something innovative and come back to tell us about it. I had done something similar with library and information science students at ALA. There is value in giving young people a reason to look closely, make a judgement and tell you what they think. And they came back. With discoveries, opinions and things they wanted to discuss. The return mattered more than the content. They were my ear to the floor, and what I valued most was the chance to listen to them.

Collaboration also means trusting young people with a real task, then making room for what they bring back. Their observations deserve to become part of the conversation.

Keeping the Bridge Open

I still believe most library systems are flawed. Naturally, I am slightly less impartial about ours. But the gaps I wrote about in my thesis are something we have to keep paying attention to, too. Building a system does not mean we can stop listening.

I mean, we can build a system, a collection or a new way of working around assumptions that nobody has had the opportunity to question. That is why these relationships matter to me. The teachers who care enough to keep pushing. The librarian and teacher shaping a subject shelf together. The students who go exploring and return with something to say.

Bokmässan reminded me how much energy there is in making room for collective knowledge, and how much less lonely the work becomes when you have others dig in next to you!  The bridge needs people on it and I'm so grateful for mine.