BY GRATIA COUNTRYMAN, _Minneapolis (Minn.) Public Library_.
If I were to sum up in these short moments the opportunities which lie
before library workers, it would have to be an epitome of all that has
been said at this conference and all previous conferences, and of all
that has been written on library extension and influence. Even then the
opportunity which lies before you might not even be mentioned.
I will not even try to enumerate the almost endless ways in which
library usefulness may express itself, for these various ways are, after
all, only different directions in which to use our one great opportunity
of service to mankind.
May we not think of a library as a dynamic force in the community, to be
used for lifting the common level. There are so many forces at work in
the nation pulling down and scattering; but the hundreds of large and
small libraries dotted over the country stand for social regeneration,
stand for the building up and perfecting of human society, stand for the
joy and happiness of individual lives. And no matter how limited seems
our own small field, it is a piece of the great domain of helpful
activity.
It is not always easy, after a hard and tiresome day of small and
perplexing duties, to see beyond our wall of weariness. Yet nothing is
more restful than to feel that we are contributing our part to a great
work, and that we, in our place, are a part of one of the great
building-up movements of the century.
I will not soon forget what Mr. Lane said in his president's address at
the Atlanta conference. I would like to quote largely, but this sentence
serves. He said: "What a privilege that we are always free to place
ourselves at the service of another. Most professions are so engrossed
by their own work that they have no time to serve the needs of others,
but it is the _business_ of the librarian to serve. He is paid for
knowing how."
It is peculiarly true that the librarian's business is to put himself
and the library under his custody at the complete disposal of the
people. It is his _business_ to watch their interests and to think in
advance for their needs.
The librarian must have, in Mrs. Browning's words,
"... both head and heart;
Both active, both complete and both in earnest."
Our opportunities, then, are not something which lie to one side, to be
especially thought of, but are the very heart of our business--of our
profession.
I have been wondering if there is not an element of discouragement to
the librarian of the small library, in such a conference as this, or
even to us who fill subordinate places in large libraries. We get so
many new ideas, we get so many plans which other libraries are putting
into operation. We know we cannot put them into practice, we know well
enough that we shall go home and do just what we have been doing, with
small quarters, with cramped revenues, with possibly unsympathetic
trustees who take unkindly to our new-born enthusiasm. There seems to be
the possibility of so much, but the opportunity for doing so little, and
then our limitations seem more apparent than our opportunities. The
assistant in the larger library says, "I wish I could be the librarian
of a small library, they have so much better an opportunity for coming
into close contact with the people," and the librarian of the little
library who does her own accessioning, cataloging, record keeping,
charging, reference work, etc., with one brain and one pair of hands,
says, "Oh, if we were only a little larger library, with more money, and
with more help, I might do so many things that other libraries do."
Carlyle says, "Not what I have, but what I do, is my kingdom," and I
take that to mean in library work that my opportunity is not what I
could do if I held some other position in some other library, but what I
can do under present conditions with present means. Success does not lie
with those who continually wish for something they haven't got, but
with those who do the best possible thing with the things they have. "It
is not so much the ship as the skilful sailing that assures a prosperous
voyage." It is not so much a great collection of books and a fine
technical organization as the personal character of the man or woman who
stands as a bridge between the books and the people. Your opportunity
and mine does not lie in our circumstances, but in ourselves, and in our
ability to see and to grasp the coveted opportunity. We are reminded of
the pious darkey who prayed every night just before Christmas, "Dear
Lord, send dis darkey a turkey." Christmas came dangerously near, and
there was no prospect of a turkey. So the night before Christmas he grew
desperate, and prayed, "Dear Lord, send dis darkey to a turkey." That
night the turkey came. Even so it is with our opportunities.
There are three classes of people toward whom the library has a special
mission: the children, the foreigner, and the working classes.
1. As to the children, we have been hearing considerably about them in
this conference. Mr. Hutchins in the Wisconsin meeting said that a good
book did more good in a country boy's home than in the city boy's. When
the country boy takes a book home he and all his family devour it, but
the town boy reads his book and exchanges it, and no one in the house
perhaps even knows that he has read it. Well, that is a subject for
thought. If his family or teachers do not watch his reading, it becomes
a serious thing for the librarian who chooses and buys his books for
him. Perhaps the library is not large enough to have a children's
department or to send books into the schools, or to do any specialized
children's work, but it can make judicious selection of books, and being
small can know individual cases among the children. It is not so hard to
find out the children one by one who need some care and interest, to
learn their names and to find out something about their families. They
say that letters cut lightly in the bark of a sapling show even more
plainly in the grown tree. A boy whom no one has reached comes into your
library. By a little watchful care he reads some wonderful life, learns
some of the marvellous forces in God's creation, opens his eyes to the
glowing sunsets or to the springing blades of grass; suddenly knows the
dignity of human nature and his own growing self. His aspirations are
born, his ambition is awakened, his life is changed. Library records
have not one, but many such cases.
The home library is a method of reaching children which is not used
enough by the smaller libraries. Branches and stations may not be
practicable, but a group of 15 to 25 books taken into sections of a town
by some friendly woman, on the plan of the home libraries, could be
carried out in almost any town. The librarian might not have time, but
she could find people who would do it, if she set the work to going.
2. As to the foreigners, Europe has used us for a dumping ground for
considerable moral and political refuse. We have the problem of making
good citizens out of much wretched material, and next to the children
there is no greater opportunity for the library. Even the smallest
library ought to study ways and means of getting at the foreign element.
It would almost pay to make a canvass of the town, to see that these
people are reached and that they know about the library. If books in
their own language are necessary to draw them, then it is the best
investment you can make.
3. But in reality the library does its great work among the mass of
common working people. It is the quiet side which makes no showing, but
it has always been the telling side. From the common people spring most
of our readers. They do our work, they fight our battles, they need our
inspiration. For them you make your libraries attractive, for them you
make careful selections of books--the student does not need your
pains--for their sake you identify yourself with every local interest.
You fix your hours for opening and closing to accommodate these working
people. You make your rules and regulations just as elastic as possible,
that they may not be debarred from any privilege. They do not ask
favors, but after all this great mass of common people whose lives are
more or less barren and empty are the ones to which the library caters
in a quiet, unadvertised way. It is the great opportunity which we
scarcely think of as an opportunity at all. It is just the daily
routine. Millions of people know little more than a mechanical life,
what they shall eat, drink and wear. Many can touch their horizons all
around with a sweep of their hands, so narrow is their circle. They live
in the basements of their spiritual temples, and never rise to the level
of their best ability. They have no joy of life, of abundant life. The
library performs a great service to society when it has furnished
information to the people, when it has been an educational factor, but
it has performed a greater one when it has awakened a man and put him
into possession of his own powers.
Well, this is not a very specific setting forth of the ways in which we
can extend the work of a small library. The way must vary greatly with
the conditions, but the spirit of the work runs through all conditions.
If I should name the qualifications of a good librarian, I would give
them in the following order, according to importance: