Feel-good Librarian

On the trading floor

I was at the desk Monday night, and an earnest girl, round and awkward, bustled up to the desk. “Do you have any books on autism?” she asked.

“I ‘m sure we do – let me find the number and see where they are.”

“They’re for my mom,” she said.

We have several books and I asked her about one title. “This one is called 1001 great ideas for teaching and raising children with autism,” I said. “Do you think that would help your mom?” I didn’t know if her mom was a teacher, parent, or sufferer.

“Well, I’m the one with autism,” she announced. “All these years I’ve had it and they finally diagnose me at 18.” She snorted. “My mom just wants to understand it better to help me.”

I thought about this as we went back to the shelves. My nephew has autism spectrum disorder, and so does the son of a close friend. Although they were diagnosed as younger children, there were still years when friends and family wondered what was wrong. Why were the children so uncomfortable around people? Why was their development so unusual? We were worried for them, until they were tested and the cause revealed.

In the stacks, she continued, “I want some books for myself, too. I’d like to see what they suggest. I already know some things. I don’t deal with change well.” This is a typical characteristic of the spectrum disorder.

She gave a muted grrrr of frustration, also typical. “We may have to move. I hope we don’t have to. I’ve been praying that we don’t.”

I pulled some books off the shelf for her, focusing on teens, and on what to do once a person is diagnosed. She looked straight at me for a moment, something unusual for autistic people. “Thank you so much for your help. I didn’t expect the library to have so many books and so much information about this. After so many years of not knowing what was wrong, I want to take all the help I can get.” She smiled.

“Good for you,” I said. “I’m glad. Let me know if you need any more help.”

I gave her the information she requested. I hoped it would give her what it gave us with the boys. I remember the relief, the direction. Now we had a path to take and action to help them overcome some of the obstacles. Though they were young, we still wondered if the therapies would work, if they would develop the social skills they needed to interact meaningfully with other people.

This girl gave me hope. Without being diagnosed or having the benefit of specialized therapy, she had developed the confidence to clearly and directly ask me for the help she needed. She could explain her situation. She could look me in the eye and express her gratitude. She could communicate her feelings – all difficult for people with autism.

Information for hope, with gratitude on both sides. Definitely a fair trade.

The World in Code

Two women came into the library last week who said they couldn’t read.

This was difficult for me. It’s really hard for me to accept that after all the books, educational programs, public funding and awareness, there are still people who appear to be mentally able that cannot read. Not to mention bringing up a personal anxiety issue - I have been reading since age 4 and still LOVE to read. I always have a pile of unread books waiting for me. It’s an escape, a coping tool, besides for being extremely useful in navigating the world around me. For heaven’s sake, I devote my life to research, books and writing!

These women wanted us to read the divorce forms for them. They were frustrated because the courthouse sent them over, telling them they only needed four forms. However, we only have packets of forms that are available from our state’s supreme court web site. There are considerably more than four forms in the packet.

When we said we weren’t allowed to read them the forms, they acted as though we were withholding information from them. From our side, we know it is actually illegal for anyone, librarians included, to give legal or medical advice. We could be prosecuted for practicing without a license.

I tried to imagine it from their point of view. It was hard. I can’t imagine not reading. I can't even remember not reading. But I suppose to them, we have the ability to read the forms, so we must have the knowledge about which forms they need. It’s not true, since each divorce case differs, but I can see it might be a logical conclusion from their side of things.

It really spiraled for me from there. Does the whole world appear to be in code to you if you can’t read?

I’ve traveled to foreign countries before: to Israel, where I didn’t even know the alphabet. But there, and in Europe, signs have more icons on them to help identify what’s going on. Also, many signs are bilingual. We don’t really have that here in the States. It would make it hard to navigate.

How could you drive if you couldn’t read? Could you pass the driver’s test? What about street signs? I know you could find your way around your own town, but travelling to another town - how could you do that? Wouldn’t it be kind of scary?

What about finding a job? How could you fill out an application? Sign a contract? Fill out any kind of report form? Follow safety instructions?

What about finances? Having a bank account wouldn’t be so bad, assuming you could read numbers. But what about insurance forms? Tax forms? Those are incredibly frustrating and anxiety-ridden for people who CAN read!

You would have to find someone to read for you. What would that do for your feeling of independence? Your confidence level?

I know you would have to compensate. Have a better memory, for example. Maybe acting skills, for looking like you know how to read when it is a required skill. Have good math skills? I don’t know.

It reminded me of being a child and thinking that coded messages were so cool. I remember the satisfaction of finding a note in code, so excited to have the secret key, being able to figure it out and get the message. I read about the Navajo code breakers during World War II, whose skill at encoding and decoding messages excelled, and was highly respected by all who heard of it.

I never knew that being able to read would make me a code breaker. It's the only code that shouldn't stay secret - let's give the whole world the key.

Dot to Dot

In January, I had a high school student shadow me at the library for two weeks. Her school had career investigation weeks for juniors and seniors. They were to spend time on the job in a career they were interested in.

I asked her what her interest was in the library field when she first arrived, wanting to arrange for experiences in other departments, if that was what she wished. “Children,” she said. “And, um, I’m going to major in Interior Design. Ah, well, libraries are sort of my back-up plan.”

I managed not to snort in her face, but did tell her that many people came to libraries as a back-up career. I arranged for her to spend time in children’s, and they let her plan and present a storytime. Her cheerfulness and enthusiasm were a hit with both the children and librarians.

Then, lo and behold, the second floor had some “spruce-up” money for the teen area. I asked her to look at the area, select items from various catalogs popular with teens, choose a color scheme and provide paint chips. She prepared a proposal and presentation board, and we met with the teen librarian the last day of her shadowing. Again, she was a hit.

Graduation came and went and I was proud to see her walk across the stage. She had been accepted to an out-of-state college with a good interior design program, and was excited about starting her new life.

Then yesterday, I saw a teacher of hers. She asked, “Have you heard about your student shadow? Her father has lost his job, and she can’t afford to go away to school. She’s going to be here at the satellite university for next year.”

I called her. She likes her parents and shows a mature understanding of the situation. She is also a sweet girl and is making the best of a disappointing situation.

“Did you know they have interior design at the local tech school?” I asked her. “A friend of mine took a design theory class last semester and said it was awesome. I’ll bet you could take at least one class a semester there while you’re getting your other requirements out of the way.”

“Really?" She was surprised to hear from me, but not as interested as I had expected. "Well, you know, I've been doing some thinking. I'm kind of wondering…..about library programs now."

"Really?" My turn to be surprised. I didn't laugh, I promise. "Would you like me to give you some information on that? I just happen to have some right here."

She laughed. "Could you? That would be great!"

Sometimes this job is digging and searching, leaving no stone unturned. Today, it was just connecting the dots.