my english teacher showed us dead poets society at the end of 8th grade; at the time i didn’t quite get it, but looking back it should’ve hit just right. i was 13, lonely, desperate to figure myself out. a teacher like robin williams would’ve been my dream — say what you will about the movie itself, but i connect with it more as an adult than i did as a quiet, awkward, weird little tween. my teachers were some of the only people who really Saw Me and my potential; in fact my 8th grade english teacher is one of the ones i practically idolized. i don’t think i’d be where i am or the person i am now without them; everything they did for me is what i want to do for my future students.
the library was one of the only places where i felt completely comfortable in school. i didn’t have to worry about who might be judging me or staring at me, or who was intimidated by me constantly having an adult looking over my shoulder. i could browse the shelves and do basically whatever i felt like without needing help. i had permission to check out books from any section, including the stuff that was reserved for kids in the upper grades.
reading was something i did not just to entertain myself when i couldn’t play or be active in the same ways everyone else did, but to help myself feel less alone, and to learn about whatever piqued my curiosity. i’d read almost anything, i didn’t care about genre and i understood a lot more than i got credit for. by middle school i was reading constantly because i spent my study halls in the library. i used to get in trouble for taking my book out of my backpack when i was done with classwork.
i know a little about a lot; most of the time it seems useless and random, but it’s actually helped me be better at my job. i like knowing i can contribute, that something i’m good at helps people. it was harder to see when i was doing adult reference, but there were times i could tell patrons were grateful. in my first branch i had to do a little of everything, and the times i had to step in and do YA activities and class visits with kids just felt different. i feel like i sound overdramatic but it’s true; they were so excited and engaged, it felt like what i was doing really meant something to them. i realized i wanted to keep feeling that way as much as i could. working in NYC made this especially clear to me — schools there need librarians, teachers who can dedicate all their time and energy to the library to make it as beneficial as it can possibly be for the students. i want to be able to see the kids i work with grow and form bonds with them, which doesn’t happen easily in the public library because it’s usually so transient. it can be hard not to get anxious about being able to handle it (the work and living there as a disabled person), but the more i talk to my classmates and other librarians the better i feel.
i want to be able to give my future students what i got out of the library. i want them to feel like they can ask questions and follow their own curiosities. i want them to know they can make mistakes and improve, that i’ll help them instead of reprimanding them. i want them to feel comfortable being themselves and expressing themselves, know that the library is a safe place and they can trust me. i want them to feel confident in making their own choices and being independent. i don’t need them to love reading, but i want them to know why it’s important. i want to help them become kind, empathetic, inquisitive, accepting, and honest people.
in one of my first school library classes, the director of my program said something that i’ve always thought myself and felt good to hear coming from someone else: if you don’t want to keep learning and be the best teacher you possibly can be for your students, you should be doing something else. i know it’s not going to be sunshine and unicorns all the time, but learning and helping other people learn means so much to me. i’m excited even just from doing observations, and i can’t wait to actually start teaching.