What happens when the ‘heart of the school’ pumps slower than it once did? This was the question I found myself asking during the spring semester of a school year. My past experience as a campus librarian ended turbulently; although the beginning started with building positive relationships with students and teachers it ended in pain and disillusionment. I have spent the majority of my library career as a middle school, intermediate school, and elementary school librarian on a flexible schedule, but we lost a teacher and the library needed to be placed on the specials rotation which although not ideal for me I understood and complied.
The principal called me into her office and explained the change and I had a basic working understanding of the problem and her resolution, so my mind began thinking about how I could efficiently and effectively execute the plan I was creating for this transition. She wanted to give me the weekend to make the switch from flexible to fixed; I did not think that was enough time, but thankfully the lead specials teacher was kind enough to give me more time. On a Friday before a three day weekend, I started my new fixed schedule.
I taught kindergarten, first grade, second grade, third grade, fourth grade, and fifth grade faithfully every day for months. The students loved it, teachers loved it, and I enjoyed fulfilling my purpose in a new way. I learned a lot and understood how the library and the librarian could aid the campus with this fixed schedule. It appeared to be working well, but then I was asked to do something that I felt at my core was wrong. When I asked questions about it, I really never got the answer. In my heart, I just knew I could not do what I was being asked to do. The conflict was more than I could handle physically and mentally, so I made a difficult choice; I walked away after talking to my medical doctor. It was the best decision for my sanity and most importantly my integrity.
One my last day on campus, I shared with a few teachers that I would not be returning to campus. I shared with one educator; you know “I bleed library”, but I could not do what I was being asked to do. All my hard work–books clubs, updating the library, book fairs, awards nights and more did not mean as much to me as I meant to myself. I had to take control of my life and my circumstances and make it better for me. Now, I have the memories of all the relationships built and the accomplishments made during my time there, and I will cherish them in my heart as a reminder of who I am and what I do.
When the ‘heart of the school’ slows you have the right to cry, but cry for an appointed time. When the ‘heart of the school’ slows, you have a right to reflect, as I stated in a librarians’ group post, “Building up the library and those in it should not be at the detriment of your own life”. When the ‘heart of the library’ slows, the next step, take action. You, dear librarian friend, are the blood, the lifeline of the heart of the school. If you have no more oxygen to breathe back into the library, you must find a new source of air. Ask yourself. How can I get a fresh supply of oxygen? What will get the heart of the school beating the way it used to again? The answers to these questions may not come all at once, but they will come. Wait prayerfully and look positively for the answers.
Lighting the way,
Fiya Librarian
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