Access Denied: When Your Safe Place Is Off-Limits
If you can’t come to the library, it will come to you
“Lunchtime in the library is canceled. Effective immediately.” It was seconds before the morning siren, and the Deputy Principal whisked in and out with the unwelcome news that Western Australia had morphed into a “High Caseload Environment (Level 1).”
Omicron is spreading its feelers into my state. While the rest of the world has learned to live with COVID, life in Western Australia remained the same. Cut off from the world, we’ve lived in a COVID-free bubble. But our fortress is not impenetrable. This year we’ve moved from a “keep the virus out” strategy to one that will suppress and contain instead. Overnight, 65 cases of COVID were recorded, sparking the upgraded alert status.
The simple solution would have been to shut my doors at lunchtime. Reduce my workload. But that’s not how I do things.
The library is a haven for the unwanted, the misfits, the book lovers who don’t want to run around the oval endlessly, and those that need a place to recharge before returning to a bustling classroom. If there was no library, where would my kidlets go? Where could they find a safe place?
I know firsthand the power of books. Ten-year-old Sandi was a misfit who lived in books. They were my friends, taking me on adventures without judgment. Ten-year-old Sandi would have been devastated to lose access to books.
The guidelines stated year levels could not mix indoors. But what about outside? A verandah runs alongside one library wall, then opens into a garden area. Could the library move outside?
A quick check-in with the Principal confirmed yes, we could utilize the garden area. I moved benches, arranged cushions, and advertised the new ‘library’ location over the PA even though I knew they most likely wouldn’t listen.
As teachers dismissed students to lunch, one by one, they headed out to play while my regulars headed to the library.
Like an ogre guarding a dragon’s hoard, I stood in the library doorway, palm outstretched. “Stop! You cannot enter.”
Disappointment crossed some faces. Some had visibly quivering lower lips. Others used to my theatrical ways waited for the punch line.
“But I can fetch you a book, and you are welcome to recline in my fine establishment.” I waved my hands towards the benches and cushions.
The orders came thick and fast, mainly for Minecraft and Pig the Pug, making the fetching easy. Part of the attraction was the novelty of having books delivered. The other part was that their safe place, while looking a little different, remained intact.
By recess (we have an upside-down day with an early lunch and late afternoon recess), I’d sorted a way for the kidlets to continue coloring (BYO pencils!) and also do their origami.
Tomorrow’s task — I’ll be writing instructions for parents on how to place click and collect orders. It’s not the same as popping in and browsing in the morning with your kids, but these parents are reading to their kids. They’re book converts! I’m not letting that lapse.
It’s not the easiest path. But it is the right path. Ten-year-old Sandi would be proud.
Sandi Parsons is an award-winning school librarian with over 20 years experience working in educational libraries. She lives with her favorite husband and two problem puppies. She does not close the library for holidays; she does not close the library for stock take; she does not close the library during a pandemic; she does not close the library EVER.
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