Warning: This is going to sound like a pouting/pity party but it isn't. It is the stuff on my heart at the moment, and that is what this space has always been for.
This time of year can be rough. It can be amazing with graduations and celebrations and pools and parties, but it can also be rough. In May of this year (though for years it was always March. May is a new timeline.) Library Journal (LJ) releases a host of awards. It honors libraries, administrators, and librarians. Things like Librarian of the Year, Library of the Year, Para of the Year.
There is an award category called the Movers and Shakers. These always celebrate some of the most amazing people in the library community. "Innovators", "emerging leaders", and those who are "providing inspiration and model programs for others."
There are categories like Change Agents, Digital Developers, Educators, Innovators, Advocates, and Community Builders.
These are legitimately amazing people. They are giants on social media and people who are making a huge impact in their community, region, or even nation. I celebrate them and their work. It is always inspirational to read through the list and all they have accomplished.
And it is humbling
And sometimes it really stings.
There is absolutely zero chance I will ever be on LJ's Movers and Shakers list.
It is never going to happen.
That awareness hurts.
It isn't supposed to. I know that LJ is celebrating them and bringing attention to their powerful work. But the knowledge that my work is just not even in the same league can make it seem.....less.
Then a few weeks later, graduation happens, and seniors recognize those who had an impact on their life, their academic career, their education. When I was in the classroom, I got the occasional shout out.
Now? I can't even imagine that I am even for a moment considered.
Which kind of stings.
And it shouldn't.
I am not in a position like a classroom teacher. My work is almost entirely behind the scenes.
I read in classrooms K-5, but once middle school hits, students rarely know about the things my work involves.
I know my work is important to the running of a school.
I help teachers know how to use tech.
I help the tech work.
I make sure the library is filled with a current, diverse collection that meets the needs of the students.
I hunt for resources for teachers and administrators.
I advocate for students.
I ensure that student voice and choice are honored in the library collection.
The library in my 6-12 campus is, essentially, an entirely different library from the one that was there when I took over 5 years ago. That space has comfortable seating. I have implemented positive circulation policies including getting rid of fines and increasing check-out limits. The collection is far far more representative of current student reading habits. The change in the collection is almost impossible to describe.
Any student who checks out a book that has been purchased in the past 5 years has benefitted from the small, slow, progressive changes.
The seniors who graduated this year have no idea what was there before.
And I love that.
I love that they will never be burdened by a library that was not student-centered. I am happy that their high school memories involve a library that was welcoming, responsive, and friendly.
But that isn't Mover.
It certainly isn't Shaker.
But it is important. And I know that. I am definitely not criticizing the Movers and Shakers award. Not even a little.
I suppose this is a lament for a world where all of those small, necessary, daily tasks of educators --not just librarians--are not really seen.
That is just part of the education gig, though. Planting a seed that you desperately hope will be a tree at some point in your lifetime.
This is much more of a long game.'
Not Mover and Shaker.
Planter, nurturer, waiter, tender, trimer, pruner, waterer, feeder, comforter.
And hoper. (One who hopes?)
So today I will enjoy some Cherry Garcia and grumble about not being a Mover and Shaker, then tomorrow I'll get back to the work that helps my students.
