Reflections at the beginning of a new year

I noticed today that this little blog has been viewed well over 1,000 times since I began my travels through library space a little over four months ago.  Thanks to all of my viewers for your encouragement!  Now, with the new year underway, it seemed a good time to reflect on how I began this journey and to muse a bit over what I've learned on my travels.

When I decided to move away from library administration my intention was to become an avid library user.  I wanted more time to read some of the fascinating books I had ordered for the Kellogg-Hubbard Library over the years- but hadn't had time to read; I wanted to experience libraries from the other side of the desk; and I wanted to pursue a new career.  What I hadn't anticipated was how interested I would continue to be in the concept of the library as a public space.  It was this interest that inspired me to become a consultant with that concept in mind.

Over the course of my travels I was reminded that rural libraries generally cope with a shortage of space and a shortage of money.  Nonetheless, they are beloved by their customers -  those thrifty New Englanders who wholeheartedly embrace the notion of shared community resources. Librarians are revered in their communities as caring and intelligent purveyors of public knowledge, regardless of how small or poorly funded the library may be.   These librarians are masters at making the proverbial "stone soup": serving up a wonderful range of materials and services on a tiny budget.

Yet, there's not a librarian I've met who doesn't want more for his or her customers. Some long for a larger book budget or more computers, some envision an entirely new library, some are planning an expansion of an existing space, and others are simply looking for new ways to make their existing space better.  I admit to wishing more than once that I had time to make this journey while I was still a library director; there's no question that I would have adopted some good ideas to improve the experience of customers in my own library.  With luck, other librarians who are now in that position will find the blog a helpful resource and I welcome your suggestions and comments.

Imagining a new way to use space that we have inhabited every day is always a big challenge.  And when one is thinking about an entirely new space for a library it's equally difficult to imagine how that space should be laid out. 

It may be helpful to imagine the experience of a person coming through the library doors.  What is the first thing he or she sees?  If the customer is a child or a senior citizen, what would help them feel comfortable?   I've heard it suggested that we walk through the library while paying particular attention to what a customer's journey will be like. For instance, what do they hear within each space? What do they touch? What's it like to find a book, pull up a chair, turn on a lamp, sit at a computer, hold a handrail, and so on?   Do the transitions in the building make sense?  Can we give our customers the experience they need while trying surpass their expectations?

In my travels I've seen that small details are important — and I am talking about the ones that are most simple and obvious.  A well-placed chair, a clear directional sign, a welcoming corner that invites a child to curl up with a book, an attractive mural, good task lighting: these are the small things that can enhance the experience of the library at minimal cost.

Next week we'll be back on the road and escorting you through still more great libraries.  If for any reason you can't post a comment, feel free to send me an e-mail at: hilari@librariesthat work.com.