http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/metropolitan/7316574.html
Last week our staff received an email from the librarians (goddesses, as they like to refer themselves to) to survey our opinion on whether or not we thought it would be a good idea to section off the library as a silent-zone during finals week.
I must admit, as I voiced my reaction aloud, I heard the bellow of a crotchety old man hit my ears. Well, of course, it should be a silent-zone during finals weeks and every other week, goshnabbit!
Since the first clay tablets were housed in one place in Mesopotamia for their (rich) citizens to read 5000 years ago, libraries have been halcyon halls for reading, serene sanctuaries promoted by Franklin for the public where one can find solace between the pages of a book, expertly plucked from the shelves if you knew your Dewey decimal system (400s, 600s, 900s being my favorite stacks to peruse ad nauseum).
At the helm, the coveted position of librarian, feared and respected up there with nuns and police officers -at least if your of my generation. Her vocal training expertly emitted the the sound ssshhh in a low, yet forboding manner, only needed once to get the point across.
But that was 1984 and after reading the article, and with the knowledge that 21st century learning is a social event accomplished, not in individual study carrels, but collaboratively and out in the open, the Lamar High model may not be so far-fetched.
So, here's to our goddesses who just may be part of the pioneers into the 21st century library. Perhaps, sooner than later I'll be able to take my classes for research tasks to Prep's Saunders library and have a student barista prepare a cafe americano. Oh, and no shushing.
