Category Archives: Director’s Desk

Our Butterfly Garden loves the rain this summer!

I love the enthusiasm of summer – the long days, flowers, and sunshine give you the feeling that the work-a-day rules of the school year just don’t apply and we can all be kids a little bit longer. We can play a little more, stay outside a little longer, and throw open all the windows to enjoy the breeze. Something about summer brings out the optimist in me, and the possibilities seem endless.

I don’t know about you, but I don’t want it to be over yet!

Fortunately, we have three weeks of wonderful Summer Reading events still to enjoy, including: Starlight Movie night with Galaxy Quest (plus the Greenwood Community Band and the Storm Troopers), Doctor Who Day, and best of all . . . The Great Cow Drop!

We frequently hear from our patrons that they love our programs. Last year, almost 35,000 of you attended them! But we could not afford these wonderful programs without the support of our Friends of the Library Group. You may have participated in one or more of our library fundraisers:  Save the Library, The Next Chapter Breakfast, or the Knight to Remember with Coach Bob Knight. We so appreciate your support, which enables us to continue to provide programs like Summer Reading for our community.

This summer our fundraiser is The Great Cow Drop – brought to us by our good friends at Chick-Fil-A. Our goal is to have a great day of family fun while also raising money for library programs. Silly Safari will open our program on the 27^th, followed by booths, crafts, and more. A $10 ticket will get you entrance, a flying cow, and a chance to win one of our prizes (a Nook HD, a trip for four to Fair Oaks Farms, free Chick Fil-a for a year, or Holiday World tickets). A $2 ticket will get you entrance for the event without a flying cow or prize drawing. Tickets are on sale now at the library.

We hope to see all of you there when the cows fly!

The management team at Greenwood Public Library has been taking our monthly meeting on the road lately. Last month our wanderings took us to Northeast Elementary School. We have been enjoying getting to know our neighbors with these field trips and every time we learn a little bit more about the wonderful community we live in.

The staff at Northeast shared information, took us on a tour, made us some yummy snacks, and shared their favorite books, but the most important thing they did was to give faces and stories to a statistic too easily ignored:  81% free and reduced lunches.  

When the Northeast school bell rings each morning, children pour through the door. Some are raring and ready to go, but others are not.  Some have not eaten since they were last at school. Others are frightened or sleepy due to chaos at home. Some have language issues. But all of them are met with a veritable army of supporters. Teachers, administrators, counselors, nurses, volunteers, tutors, and neighbors work hard to make sure each child is ready to learn.

And so the work of educating a community involves more than the ABC’s – sometimes it involves food, a pair of shoes, a backpack, a listening ear, or a call to someone in the community who can help. And it doesn’t hurt that each child is treated as special and full of potential – because each one is. They are not  statistics. They are bundles of joy and fear, hopes and dreams, just like the rest of us.

Most of our Management Team already knew of the good work at Northeast – our children’s librarians regularly interact with teachers and administrators there, because neither their school nor our library are defined by our four walls. But to hear these passionate educators talk about the children they serve was inspiring all over again.

For those of us who have everything we need it is so easy to forget those who do not. We all know the statistics. We know that there are those who live below the poverty line, that the percentage of free and reduced lunches is very high for areas of our community, but newspaper stories and statistics are not very compelling if they are never connected with the bright faces of promise they represent. Someone dismissed the free and reduced lunch statistic in a conversation the other day, “Oh, those free lunches are so easy to get. That statistic doesn’t mean much.” But it does. It most certainly does.

At the library we don’t have statistics to represent the needs of the children, teens, and adults who walk through our doors;  but we can tell you that we have teens who are hungry and on the edge of homelessness; we have desperate parents who have been out of work for more than a year; we have children so ready to learn whose parents cannot afford preschool. Like Northeast, we work  hard to make sure that our community is a level playing field for all. Teens are mentored, adults have individual help on their job search and computer classes. Children learn what they need to walk in to that first day of school ready and raring to go.

I can’t wait for our next field trip. Our community is full of people making a difference where it is desperately needed. But unless we look and are willing to truly see, we might find ourselves falling into the trap of knowing our community only by its statistics and missing the heart of the story. And Greenwood has a lot of heart!

If you have ever been laid off, you won’t easily forget it. I was 31 and had been with my company for 11 years. I loved my job and the company I worked for – and yet that was the year I found myself unemployed. My position had been outsourced.

The emotional impact of being unemployed surprised me. Not only did it feel personal, it impacted my confidence and sense of identity. I would never have guessed that it would throw me so badly. But I knew what I needed to do: I applied for unemployment and started filling out applications. Of course, this was 20 years ago, and the journey to a new job was still paved with paper. I filled out applications and hand-delivered resumes. I went to the unemployment office, filled out paperwork, and waited in the hard plastic chairs until the number on my paper ticket was called. It wasn’t a pleasant process, but I knew it was what every other unemployed adult endured. It was at least a level playing field.

I did not succeed in finding a job, and in the end this meant a short-sale on our home and a move across country to Indiana. But it also meant new opportunities, a re-evaluation of our priorities, and the opportunity to stay home for several years with my daughter – something I wouldn’t trade for anything. Looking back it is easy to see this time as a blessing in disguise. But at the time, it was incredibly stressful.

Twenty years later, I see that same stress on the faces of our library users who are working their way through job losses. The emotion and the stress may be the same, but the details have become incredibly more complicated. The digital age makes our world an amazingly searchable place, but it also adds a necessary skill and resource to that search. Being qualified for a job is no longer enough. Even if you want to work in a job that requires absolutely no computer skills, odds are you do need those computer skills to apply.

According to the latest Pew Research Survey, 65% of Americans have broadband internet at home. I am fortunate to be one of those. Maybe you are as well. But in fact it wasn’t until I became a public librarian that I was able to put faces with the other 35% – my neighbors who do not have ready access to the internet. In Greenwood, this 35% equals roughly 18,000 residents. Not surprisingly, the 35% and the 65% have a lot in common. They work hard, pay their taxes, raise their children – but when those without access to broadband internet are laid off, they find themselves navigating the world of unemployment in the digital age.  It is no longer a level playing field.

Fortunately, public libraries provide access to technology and broadband and level the playing field for everyone in our community. This free, tax supported service is essential in our communities. It is unacceptable that 35% of our community who are otherwise qualified should be put at a disadvantage in their job search. In addition to computers and internet access, librarians help job searchers create their first resumes, offer free computer classes to improve job skills, and provide one-on-one consultation to meet the unique needs of each user.

As I write this, the faces of the library patrons I have helped come to mind. They are your neighbors, your family, your friends. We get to know the patrons who visit every day searching for jobs online, creating resumes, or filing for unemployment. We take their job searches almost as personally as they do – and their successes motivate us to fight to preserve the service that leveled the playing field for them when they needed it most: The Public Library.

Sometimes I wonder if we should rename the Public Library. After more than a century of history in America, the public library has radically changed – it is a dynamic and flexible institution committed to meeting the needs of every resident and yet many of the 65% consider it a luxury or think it is a relic of the past. But when I see GPL with a full parking lot, well-used computers and wifi, and hundreds of thousands of books checked out each year, I know that there’s more to the public library than the stereotype would imply.

Should we rename the public library? Something catchy, something without the dusty connotations . . . or maybe it’s just as important to remember that the Free Public Library is still just that, and that it still functions to improve life for every citizen, just as its greatest American proponent hoped it would:

There is not such a cradle of democracy upon the earth as the Free Public Library, this republic of letters, where neither rank, office, nor wealth receives the slightest consideration.                          ~Andrew Carnegie

As the morning light pours through the windows, a knot of toddlers manages to play with trains, books, and dress-up clothes simultaneously while a dad watches from the couch, holding a sleepy baby. At the table a mom balances her checkbook while comforting a small child who hiccups into her shoulder. Big brothers and sisters hurry to do their homework so that they too can play. It is a scene that could be the busy living room of any home – but instead it is the Children’s Department of the Greenwood Public Library. Call it the community’s living room – a third place for everyone to connect, relax, and breathe in a life run ragged with appointments, shopping, and school or work commitments.

In the teen room, the noise level goes up a notch. Groups of girls gather over teen magazines, video games are played, music is shared, and there is the occasional loud outburst of laughter or teenaged indignity. There are more boys than girls here today – not your average library in any way. In spite of the generally high activity level, other teens are engrossed in reading and heads are seen bowed over school books. The teens who come here might not realize that the person behind the desk has a master’s degree or even that she is a certified librarian, but they know that she listens to them and knows their name. And that’s all that really matters.

Upstairs, the scene is quieter. The news is read on newsprint or monitor. Laptops and e-readers appear out of backpacks to adorn every study table, and study groups stress quietly over upcoming tests. New friends are found in the pages of novels as well as behind the desk. Dozens of public computers are well used, and those searching for jobs are buoyed by a little company, a little help, and a smiling face. In this place, it doesn’t matter how much money is in your wallet or what your purchasing power is. By coming through the door, you’ve staked your claim to this place – this is your library, your community, your place to be.

This is a place people want to leave a legacy. Over the years we have had everything from books purchased in memory of good friends to larger bequests. In 2008 William Fisher’s family chose to donate funds to the library in memory of their father and his love of books and of the library. The Fisher family’s legacy is a waterfall area at the entrance to the library. It is a peaceful spot where families regularly make a point to stop and say “hello” to the waterfall, and there are cheers every spring when the waters return.

Story time alums Dick and Tom Van Arsdale remembered GPL at a critical moment in our history and began the Hilda Van Arsdale Library Fund in 2012 with an inaugural fundraising event featuring Coach Bob Knight.  Their goal for their mother’s legacy is a stable and strong library, ready to welcome generations of families and story time children

A legacy of another sort arrived today at the library, a gift in memory of Scarlett Kapke, granddaughter of the Hogan family. Her legacy is exactly what any small child would love – a tree to climb in. It arrived in pieces before we opened this morning, and as children arrived, they watched with growing excitement as their tree was assembled. Finally, it was ready. Climbing, playing, exploring, and sliding ensued. All day long there was an extra measure of laughter and joy among the smallest GPL patrons.

While other libraries struggle to convince their communities of their worth, GPL is fortunate to have patrons who not only understand the library’s value for their family, but fight to preserve it for generations to come. Looking at the sweet faces peeking out of the tree trunk today, I knew these children had no idea of the many gifts woven together to make their playful morning possible. But I knew, and I thought you might want see what a legacy can look like:  A grinning, giggling, joyful legacy.