It isn't easy being a pioneer. There are sudden twists in the road. The weather is unpredictable. The dangers are hard to gauge.
On the other hand, there's a certain amount of freedom when you step beyond the familiar. You learn things about yourself that you wouldn't have known before. You get a close-up glimpse of the future. All in all, pioneering can be exhilarating.
It happens that the Douglas Public Library District is something of a pioneer. We're the first library in the nation to load the EBSCO Magazine Article Summary database on its computer catalog.
Who or what is EBSCO? Mainly, it's a company serving as a "jobber" for magazine subscriptions. Instead of us trying to keep track of some 260-plus titles -- all of which need to be re-subscribed to on an irregular schedule -- EBSCO gives us a way to combine most of our subscriptions into one big order. This is not only convenient for us, it also saves us money.
But the Magazine Article Summary (or MAS) is a new wrinkle. Instead of providing us with a paper copy of the actual article, it provides us with ELECTRONIC citations and abstracts.
These citations are very similar to the usual computer catalog entry. That is, when you do a search by title or subject, the computer will show you the full and correct title of a matching entry (including author, magazine name, date, and page numbers).
But the abstracts are what make the tool so useful. For one thing, and unlike some of the other periodical databases, every article HAS an abstract.
Once you find an article -- on some software package or automobile make, for instance -- you'll find that you have a whole lot more information at your fingertips than you would from a "Readers' Guide to Periodicals" listing. Sometimes, the abstract alone will tell you exactly what you want to know, in which case you don't even need a paper copy.
Other times, the abstract may not tell you what you need, but it will tell you whether or not you're likely to find what you need in that particular article.
All of these things save time not only for you, the patron, but also for the library staff. With good abstract information, you won't have to go trudging around the library yanking magazines that MIGHT have what you want. And we won't have to trudge around putting them all back -- just the ones that were actually useful to you.
Have you ever tracked down an article only to discover that some scurrilous vandal has torn it out of the magazine? It's virtually impossible for somebody to cut a piece of an abstract out of a computer.
The DPLD is a pioneer in another way. In brief, we have tried to establish a new legal precedent. Up until now, the vendors of such databases sold LICENSES to the data, not the data itself.
What does that mean? The MAS is available as a product on CD-ROM (which are like music CDs, but contain data for use with a computer). And like many CD-ROM products, when you stop subscribing, you're honor- and contractually-bound to send everything back.
But the DPLD secured what is, I believe, the first contract in the country that enables us to keep any of the information we have loaded on our computer catalog. So if at some time, we stop subscribing to EBSCO's product, we don't have to purge our records of anything we have found useful.
We think this represents something of a breakthrough in making current periodical information available to the public.
All that's the good news. What's the down-side? Well, an MAS search doesn't work EXACTLY like one of our regular computer searches. We're still puzzling all that out. So please be patient if our computer terminals display some unusual messages over the next several weeks about some new approaches for searching our records.
But that's life on the frontier. When you're blazing a trail to the promised land, you can't count on all the usual conveniences.
Welcome
This blog represents most of the newspaper columns (appearing in various Colorado Community Newspapers and Yourhub.com) written by me, James LaRue, during the time in which I was the director of the Douglas County Libraries in Douglas County, Colorado. (Some columns are missing, due to my own filing errors.) This blog covers the time period from April 11, 1990 to January 12, 2012.
Unless I say so, the views expressed here are mine and mine alone. They may be quoted elsewhere, so long as you give attribution. The dates are (at least according my records) the dates of publication in one of the above print newspapers.
Unless I say so, the views expressed here are mine and mine alone. They may be quoted elsewhere, so long as you give attribution. The dates are (at least according my records) the dates of publication in one of the above print newspapers.
The blog archive (web view) is in chronological order. The display of entries, below, seems to be in reverse order, new to old.
All of the mistakes are of course my own responsibility.
All of the mistakes are of course my own responsibility.
Wednesday, April 28, 1993
Wednesday, April 14, 1993
April 8, 1993 - Meeting room policy
Robert Heinlein, the late, great science fiction author, once described a "committee" as a form of life that had more than 4 legs - but no brain.
There's another perspective, as captured by the phrase, "Two heads are better than one."
How YOU feel about committees probably depends on which ones you've worked with, and whether they made you feel dumber, or smarter. But no matter what kind of committee that is, the odds are good that you've all shared a common problem: finding a place to meet.
The Douglas Public Library District understands that the library is an almost ideal place for committee gatherings. For one thing, we don't charge anything as long as you don't trash the place.
For another thing, surely everybody knows where you can find your local library.
For yet another, the library is probably the best location imaginable to find information about whatever subject drew your committee together in the first place.
Finally, the library is by definition a PUBLIC gathering place. If you're trying to stimulate interest in a subject, why not plunk yourself down in the middle of the intellectual shopping mall and see who wanders in?
Recently, the Douglas Public Library District upgraded its meeting room at the Oakes Mill Library (in the Lone Tree development) to accommodate fairly large groups. The Philip S. Miller Library (in Castle Rock) also has a large meeting room. The Parker and Highlands Ranch Libraries have meeting rooms as well, although they are somewhat smaller.
To keep up with the times, the Library Trustees also updated their meeting room policy. So this seems like a good time to let people know about it.
The main thing to remember is that while we are delighted to be of use to the general public, just because we provide space to your group doesn't mean the library, the Trustees, or any of our staff members agree with or endorse your perspective or beliefs. (Of course, as anyone who ever served on a committee is aware -- your committee may not even KNOW what it believes. Even so, the library still may not agree with you.)
The second thing to understand is that anyone who meets at the library must agree to open their meetings to the general public. The library does not provide space for private, for-profit organizations. We won't host private birthday parties. You can't charge for attendance. The library is a public building -- the public and the press are always welcome.
After that, there are several other procedures that govern the use of our meeting rooms. Most of them are just common-sensical provisions. For instance:
~ All of our meeting rooms are reserved on a first-come, first- served basis.
~ Any group wanting to use the room has to fill out an application form. ~ The meeting rooms are available -- unless you have made special prior arrangements with the branch manager -- only during usual library hours. That's Monday through Thursday, 9-9; Friday and Saturday, 9-5; and Sunday, 1-5.
~ Groups wishing to meet on a regular basis throughout the year have to re-apply from time to time, as determined by the library branch manager. The idea here is to give newcomers a chance to gain access to library facilities.
~ Groups are responsible for setting things up themselves -- we won't arrange the room to suit you (although you're welcome to use whatever tables and chairs and other special equipment the library can make available).
~ We can't store materials for various groups.
~ You can't smoke in the library.
~ You can serve light refreshments, but you have to provide them yourself. The use of alcoholic beverages is prohibited, unless special permission is applied for and granted by the Library Board of Trustees.
~ Only classes sponsored by the District will be allowed to hold class meetings in our meeting rooms. That is, you can't start a Mandarin Chinese language class, and charge for materials, unless the library is sponsoring the classes.
~ The library reserves the right to cancel meeting room reservations as needed. We don't expect to need to very often, but you never know when we might have to do some building repairs or accommodate our own Library Board.
That's pretty much it. When in doubt, just ask to talk to the branch manager.
So will any of this make committee work easier, or the committee members any more productive?
Probably not. But at least you'll have a place to sit down.
There's another perspective, as captured by the phrase, "Two heads are better than one."
How YOU feel about committees probably depends on which ones you've worked with, and whether they made you feel dumber, or smarter. But no matter what kind of committee that is, the odds are good that you've all shared a common problem: finding a place to meet.
The Douglas Public Library District understands that the library is an almost ideal place for committee gatherings. For one thing, we don't charge anything as long as you don't trash the place.
For another thing, surely everybody knows where you can find your local library.
For yet another, the library is probably the best location imaginable to find information about whatever subject drew your committee together in the first place.
Finally, the library is by definition a PUBLIC gathering place. If you're trying to stimulate interest in a subject, why not plunk yourself down in the middle of the intellectual shopping mall and see who wanders in?
Recently, the Douglas Public Library District upgraded its meeting room at the Oakes Mill Library (in the Lone Tree development) to accommodate fairly large groups. The Philip S. Miller Library (in Castle Rock) also has a large meeting room. The Parker and Highlands Ranch Libraries have meeting rooms as well, although they are somewhat smaller.
To keep up with the times, the Library Trustees also updated their meeting room policy. So this seems like a good time to let people know about it.
The main thing to remember is that while we are delighted to be of use to the general public, just because we provide space to your group doesn't mean the library, the Trustees, or any of our staff members agree with or endorse your perspective or beliefs. (Of course, as anyone who ever served on a committee is aware -- your committee may not even KNOW what it believes. Even so, the library still may not agree with you.)
The second thing to understand is that anyone who meets at the library must agree to open their meetings to the general public. The library does not provide space for private, for-profit organizations. We won't host private birthday parties. You can't charge for attendance. The library is a public building -- the public and the press are always welcome.
After that, there are several other procedures that govern the use of our meeting rooms. Most of them are just common-sensical provisions. For instance:
~ All of our meeting rooms are reserved on a first-come, first- served basis.
~ Any group wanting to use the room has to fill out an application form. ~ The meeting rooms are available -- unless you have made special prior arrangements with the branch manager -- only during usual library hours. That's Monday through Thursday, 9-9; Friday and Saturday, 9-5; and Sunday, 1-5.
~ Groups wishing to meet on a regular basis throughout the year have to re-apply from time to time, as determined by the library branch manager. The idea here is to give newcomers a chance to gain access to library facilities.
~ Groups are responsible for setting things up themselves -- we won't arrange the room to suit you (although you're welcome to use whatever tables and chairs and other special equipment the library can make available).
~ We can't store materials for various groups.
~ You can't smoke in the library.
~ You can serve light refreshments, but you have to provide them yourself. The use of alcoholic beverages is prohibited, unless special permission is applied for and granted by the Library Board of Trustees.
~ Only classes sponsored by the District will be allowed to hold class meetings in our meeting rooms. That is, you can't start a Mandarin Chinese language class, and charge for materials, unless the library is sponsoring the classes.
~ The library reserves the right to cancel meeting room reservations as needed. We don't expect to need to very often, but you never know when we might have to do some building repairs or accommodate our own Library Board.
That's pretty much it. When in doubt, just ask to talk to the branch manager.
So will any of this make committee work easier, or the committee members any more productive?
Probably not. But at least you'll have a place to sit down.
Wednesday, April 7, 1993
April 7, 1993 - Arbor Day
The last time my wife and I drove across Kansas was during our move to Colorado.
It was 98 degrees and relentlessly sunny. We were driving two cars, neither one of which had air-conditioning. My wife was six months pregnant. I had two extremely distressed cats in the car, and was afraid to open the windows too far for fear they'd jump out.
Garrison Keillor sings a song about a similar situation, with the lines:
"Oh dogs they love to travel, with their faces to the breeze. But cats sit trembling on your lap and vomit on your knees."
It was a rough drive, especially when we finally realized that we were driving across the only state in the union that is wider than Canada.
I mean, Kansas was bleak. God's ironing board, Kansas seemed to have only enough trees to make you realize how truly barren it was.
That was five years ago. A few weeks back, we took the trip the other way -- to Illinois for a wedding. Frankly, I dreaded it. While we weren't taking any cats, we did plan to bring our five year old, Maddy.
Much to my surprise, we all enjoyed it. This time we took the back road -- U.S. 36. We found that our eyes had grown accustomed to the openness of the high plains. With some good audiocassettes to listen to (E.B. White's Stuart Little, some Prairie Home Companion reunions, some Jim Weiss folk and fairy tale tapes) the miles just flew behind us.
Nonetheless, in Kansas you can still spot towns from a great distance. Anywhere there are trees, there are people. The farther east we went, the more trees we saw.
I believe the desire for over-arching branches, for shade, for colorful foliage, for visible roots, is a deep ancestral need. Or maybe it's just that for a long time in this country's history, everybody's parents were born some place back east.
In either case, trees mean "home." Or as Stuart Little put it, "For you I pine. For you I balsam."
And that leads me to the point of this week's column. Saturday, April 17, 1993, is Arbor Day. This will be Douglas County's Third Annual celebration.
In the past two years, over a thousand trees have been planted in the county. This year, the sponsors hope to plant half again as many.
Apart from the natural beauty of the trees native to or thriving in Colorado -- the blue spruce, the Ponderosa, the pinon, the foxtail, the hackberry, green and purple ash, to name just a few of the most fetching -- there are many other good, if less poetic, reasons to support this worthwhile local effort.
* Two hundred years ago, topsoil averaged 18 inches in depth. Today the average is just 6 inches. Why the drop? Trees hold the soil. The United States loses 700,000 acres of forest land annually.
* The average tree removes 48 pounds of carbon dioxide from the atmosphere in a year's time -- and carbon dioxide is one of the most significant environmental pollutants of our time.
* One mature tree offsets the carbon dioxide produced by up to 10 cars.
To reach their goal, the planning committee for the Douglas County Arbor Day needs to raise $7,000. They've already raised $9,100. Where will the rest of the money come from?
You. Individual gifts in the amounts of $5, $10, $20, $30, $50 and up are desperately needed and will go for the sole purpose of buying trees. To donate money, send it to DOUGLAS COUNTY ARBOR DAY, P.O. BOX 1390, CASTLE ROCK CO 80104. If you'd like to help plant the trees, contact Joe Julian or Jacki Hein at 688-3096.
You have a choice: long for the gentle, forested days of your youth, or plant for the future. This simple gift -- of trees, or of the time to help plant them -- will do more to improve the quality of life in Douglas County -- your home -- than you can possibly imagine.
It was 98 degrees and relentlessly sunny. We were driving two cars, neither one of which had air-conditioning. My wife was six months pregnant. I had two extremely distressed cats in the car, and was afraid to open the windows too far for fear they'd jump out.
Garrison Keillor sings a song about a similar situation, with the lines:
"Oh dogs they love to travel, with their faces to the breeze. But cats sit trembling on your lap and vomit on your knees."
It was a rough drive, especially when we finally realized that we were driving across the only state in the union that is wider than Canada.
I mean, Kansas was bleak. God's ironing board, Kansas seemed to have only enough trees to make you realize how truly barren it was.
That was five years ago. A few weeks back, we took the trip the other way -- to Illinois for a wedding. Frankly, I dreaded it. While we weren't taking any cats, we did plan to bring our five year old, Maddy.
Much to my surprise, we all enjoyed it. This time we took the back road -- U.S. 36. We found that our eyes had grown accustomed to the openness of the high plains. With some good audiocassettes to listen to (E.B. White's Stuart Little, some Prairie Home Companion reunions, some Jim Weiss folk and fairy tale tapes) the miles just flew behind us.
Nonetheless, in Kansas you can still spot towns from a great distance. Anywhere there are trees, there are people. The farther east we went, the more trees we saw.
I believe the desire for over-arching branches, for shade, for colorful foliage, for visible roots, is a deep ancestral need. Or maybe it's just that for a long time in this country's history, everybody's parents were born some place back east.
In either case, trees mean "home." Or as Stuart Little put it, "For you I pine. For you I balsam."
And that leads me to the point of this week's column. Saturday, April 17, 1993, is Arbor Day. This will be Douglas County's Third Annual celebration.
In the past two years, over a thousand trees have been planted in the county. This year, the sponsors hope to plant half again as many.
Apart from the natural beauty of the trees native to or thriving in Colorado -- the blue spruce, the Ponderosa, the pinon, the foxtail, the hackberry, green and purple ash, to name just a few of the most fetching -- there are many other good, if less poetic, reasons to support this worthwhile local effort.
* Two hundred years ago, topsoil averaged 18 inches in depth. Today the average is just 6 inches. Why the drop? Trees hold the soil. The United States loses 700,000 acres of forest land annually.
* The average tree removes 48 pounds of carbon dioxide from the atmosphere in a year's time -- and carbon dioxide is one of the most significant environmental pollutants of our time.
* One mature tree offsets the carbon dioxide produced by up to 10 cars.
To reach their goal, the planning committee for the Douglas County Arbor Day needs to raise $7,000. They've already raised $9,100. Where will the rest of the money come from?
You. Individual gifts in the amounts of $5, $10, $20, $30, $50 and up are desperately needed and will go for the sole purpose of buying trees. To donate money, send it to DOUGLAS COUNTY ARBOR DAY, P.O. BOX 1390, CASTLE ROCK CO 80104. If you'd like to help plant the trees, contact Joe Julian or Jacki Hein at 688-3096.
You have a choice: long for the gentle, forested days of your youth, or plant for the future. This simple gift -- of trees, or of the time to help plant them -- will do more to improve the quality of life in Douglas County -- your home -- than you can possibly imagine.
Wednesday, March 31, 1993
March 31, 1993 - Controversial books for kids
After three years of renting, my wife and I have bought a house. In just a few weeks, we'll be resettling in Castle Rock.
Along about now, most people would start packing. But my wife and I are librarians. So what's our top priority? -- Check out some books on moving.
I don't mean the kind of books that guide you through the mechanics of relocation, although the library certainly has plenty of books on the subject.
The kind of books we're piling up concern something far more important: how to talk about moving with your child.
We could tell Maddy was a little worried about it. Being librarians, we are of the firm and united opinion that whenever Maddy is working through something, there are some five hundred books that will give Maddy a way to think about, talk about, and otherwise imaginatively anticipate change. So we start showering her with books, and spend as many evenings as it takes to poke through them with her.
You know what? It works. After reading that one of the Berenstain Bears had trouble getting used to the idea of leaving the family cave in the mountains, Maddy felt freer to talk about her own feelings. A score of other titles later, she was able to articulate her concerns: would we take all of our stuff with us? Would we still be able to visit friends in the old neighborhood? What if it was noisy at the new house? What if she couldn't find new friends?
So okay, our stuff isn't ready. But our daughter is. You have to pack your family first.
There's a word for the use of books to counsel your children. It's called "bibliotherapy."
Bibliotherapy is based on a few simple premises. First, there is nothing so strange that millions of other people haven't gone through exactly the same thing. Second, the more you know about something, the less power it has over you, and the more likely you are to survive it. Third, sharing books not only helps provide liberating information, it can also pull families together.
Here's just a sample of books for younger (elementary age) children, all available from the Douglas Public Library District, about all kinds of potential or actual traumas.
For instance, are you worried that your child might become one of the approximately 1.8 million children who disappear annually in the United States? Then take a look at Who Is A Stranger and What Should I Do? by Linda Walvoord Girard for some very practical, down-to-earth advice.
Is your daughter coming to grips with a divorce? Try Linda Girard's At Daddy's on Saturdays for an insight into the things that matter to a child -- and what grown-ups ought to do about it.
I know a woman in Douglas County whose husband left her -- for another man. When she was trying to help her young children understand the situation, she asked us to get a book called Daddy's Roommate, by Michael Willhoite. We did, and she says it helped.
My Sister, Then and Now, by Virginia L. Kroll, concerns a girl whose older sister is schizophrenic, another traumatic family situation that children can find hard to talk about.
The Auction, by Jan Andrews, is a sad but lovely book that describes the auction of a farm, and the efforts of a young boy to help his grandfather come to terms with it.
Another book dealing with partings is Saying Good-bye to Grandma, by Jane Resh Thomas. It's the story of seven-year-old Suzie, who goes back with her parents to attend her grandmother's funeral.
There are many titles about tough family situations, such as Tight Times, by Barbara Shook Hazen, which concerns a poor family whose husband loses his job. Judith Vigna's I Wish Daddy Didn't Drink So Much is an uncompromising look at the effects of alcoholism on a family. The Piggybook by Anthony Browne is a cautionary and occasionally hilarious tale about a working wife who finally manages to get a little respect -- and help around the house.
An especial favorite of mine is Mrs. Katz and Tush, by Patrica Polacco. This is the beguiling story of an old Jewish widow, and the young African American boy who befriends her, and restores her zest for life through the person of Tush, a tailless cat.
There are many people in America who take such children's books - - focusing on everything from the plight of the homeless, to the behavior of the mentally retarded, to environmental concerns, to dealing with nightmares, to the awkwardness of wearing glasses -- as further evidence of the moral decay of America. They believe that children's books should show only homes that are happy, lives that are uncomplicated, and a society that is just and fair.
But some homes are not happy, some lives are extremely complicated, and our society is often cruelly unjust.
The vicarious experience of fiction can inoculate our children against the larger threats of our culture. By reading about the choices others have made, children can learn to make better choices for themselves. Of equal importance, they can begin to develop a trait sadly lacking in too many Americans -- compassion based on knowledge.
So the next time you find your family facing some large -- or even not so large -- crisis, remember that a visit to a library just might be a move in the right direction.
Along about now, most people would start packing. But my wife and I are librarians. So what's our top priority? -- Check out some books on moving.
I don't mean the kind of books that guide you through the mechanics of relocation, although the library certainly has plenty of books on the subject.
The kind of books we're piling up concern something far more important: how to talk about moving with your child.
We could tell Maddy was a little worried about it. Being librarians, we are of the firm and united opinion that whenever Maddy is working through something, there are some five hundred books that will give Maddy a way to think about, talk about, and otherwise imaginatively anticipate change. So we start showering her with books, and spend as many evenings as it takes to poke through them with her.
You know what? It works. After reading that one of the Berenstain Bears had trouble getting used to the idea of leaving the family cave in the mountains, Maddy felt freer to talk about her own feelings. A score of other titles later, she was able to articulate her concerns: would we take all of our stuff with us? Would we still be able to visit friends in the old neighborhood? What if it was noisy at the new house? What if she couldn't find new friends?
So okay, our stuff isn't ready. But our daughter is. You have to pack your family first.
There's a word for the use of books to counsel your children. It's called "bibliotherapy."
Bibliotherapy is based on a few simple premises. First, there is nothing so strange that millions of other people haven't gone through exactly the same thing. Second, the more you know about something, the less power it has over you, and the more likely you are to survive it. Third, sharing books not only helps provide liberating information, it can also pull families together.
Here's just a sample of books for younger (elementary age) children, all available from the Douglas Public Library District, about all kinds of potential or actual traumas.
For instance, are you worried that your child might become one of the approximately 1.8 million children who disappear annually in the United States? Then take a look at Who Is A Stranger and What Should I Do? by Linda Walvoord Girard for some very practical, down-to-earth advice.
Is your daughter coming to grips with a divorce? Try Linda Girard's At Daddy's on Saturdays for an insight into the things that matter to a child -- and what grown-ups ought to do about it.
I know a woman in Douglas County whose husband left her -- for another man. When she was trying to help her young children understand the situation, she asked us to get a book called Daddy's Roommate, by Michael Willhoite. We did, and she says it helped.
My Sister, Then and Now, by Virginia L. Kroll, concerns a girl whose older sister is schizophrenic, another traumatic family situation that children can find hard to talk about.
The Auction, by Jan Andrews, is a sad but lovely book that describes the auction of a farm, and the efforts of a young boy to help his grandfather come to terms with it.
Another book dealing with partings is Saying Good-bye to Grandma, by Jane Resh Thomas. It's the story of seven-year-old Suzie, who goes back with her parents to attend her grandmother's funeral.
There are many titles about tough family situations, such as Tight Times, by Barbara Shook Hazen, which concerns a poor family whose husband loses his job. Judith Vigna's I Wish Daddy Didn't Drink So Much is an uncompromising look at the effects of alcoholism on a family. The Piggybook by Anthony Browne is a cautionary and occasionally hilarious tale about a working wife who finally manages to get a little respect -- and help around the house.
An especial favorite of mine is Mrs. Katz and Tush, by Patrica Polacco. This is the beguiling story of an old Jewish widow, and the young African American boy who befriends her, and restores her zest for life through the person of Tush, a tailless cat.
There are many people in America who take such children's books - - focusing on everything from the plight of the homeless, to the behavior of the mentally retarded, to environmental concerns, to dealing with nightmares, to the awkwardness of wearing glasses -- as further evidence of the moral decay of America. They believe that children's books should show only homes that are happy, lives that are uncomplicated, and a society that is just and fair.
But some homes are not happy, some lives are extremely complicated, and our society is often cruelly unjust.
The vicarious experience of fiction can inoculate our children against the larger threats of our culture. By reading about the choices others have made, children can learn to make better choices for themselves. Of equal importance, they can begin to develop a trait sadly lacking in too many Americans -- compassion based on knowledge.
So the next time you find your family facing some large -- or even not so large -- crisis, remember that a visit to a library just might be a move in the right direction.
Wednesday, March 24, 1993
March 24, 1993 - the importance of public institutions
Two weeks ago, I wrote a column about the challenges faced by public schools and public libraries. Some of those challenges are technological -- as in the increasing presence and power of personal computers and "teaching software."
For public schools and public libraries both, this new technology holds great promise. On the other hand, new tools are only useful if people can get to them.
This leads me to a second category of challenges: the issue of access to information.
Some parents choose to educate their children at home, and are able to dedicate sufficient time and resources to that end. And as I've mentioned in previous columns, home schooling parents do a strikingly good job.
Too, some fortunate families have enough money and expertise to purchase and make use of various kinds of computer equipment and services. These families will have an "information edge" -- a powerful path to personal and professional advancement.
But some parents are not able to teach their children at home. Some households have only one parent -- and that parent must work. Sometimes parents have their own severe educational deficiencies. There are many other economic, educational, or personal factors that might make homeschooling -- or private schooling, for that matter -- impracticable or impossible for a particular family.
Similarly, many parents will find the costs of computers, modems, phone lines, and electronic subscription fees, far beyond their reach.
For such people, public schools and public libraries are essential if we don't want to create a new subclass of society -- the "information poor," the people who will only know what TV tells them.
There is yet another challenge. In brief, I believe we have lost a clear national consensus on the role of our public entities. The national trend toward tax limitation, the new focus on "entrepreneurial" or business-oriented government, the increasing involvement of the business community in public education, all reveal a profound dissatisfaction -- or misunderstanding -- of the purpose and processes of the public sector.
Nowhere is this crisis as obvious as with our public schools.
In many respects public schools have become the dumping ground of our national conscience. If children aren't fed well enough at home, then schools must launch nutrition programs. If there's a problem with parental work schedules, then schools must provide extended daycare.
Yet somehow, schools are still expected to teach, to provide the basic cultural knowledge necessary to communicate with others, and to thrive.
Before any institution can succeed, it must maintain a clear focus on just what its job is. I fear that we have overloaded our public school system with unrealistic expectations, made of it a mishmash of conflicting purposes.
Yet I remain optimistic about public education -- whose fate, I believe, is closely tied to public libraries.
Public schools and public libraries remain the keys to self- improvement. They provide a series of opportunities for accomplishment -- whatever the socio-economic background or age of the individual. Alone among our public institutions, they help level the cultural and economic playing field.
There is certainly room for improvement in both public schools and public libraries. But as we poke and prod these institutions, we must also remember to preserve their inherent democracy, and to resist the many attempts to confound their purposes -- because there is nothing in the private sector that will or can replace them.
For public schools and public libraries both, this new technology holds great promise. On the other hand, new tools are only useful if people can get to them.
This leads me to a second category of challenges: the issue of access to information.
Some parents choose to educate their children at home, and are able to dedicate sufficient time and resources to that end. And as I've mentioned in previous columns, home schooling parents do a strikingly good job.
Too, some fortunate families have enough money and expertise to purchase and make use of various kinds of computer equipment and services. These families will have an "information edge" -- a powerful path to personal and professional advancement.
But some parents are not able to teach their children at home. Some households have only one parent -- and that parent must work. Sometimes parents have their own severe educational deficiencies. There are many other economic, educational, or personal factors that might make homeschooling -- or private schooling, for that matter -- impracticable or impossible for a particular family.
Similarly, many parents will find the costs of computers, modems, phone lines, and electronic subscription fees, far beyond their reach.
For such people, public schools and public libraries are essential if we don't want to create a new subclass of society -- the "information poor," the people who will only know what TV tells them.
There is yet another challenge. In brief, I believe we have lost a clear national consensus on the role of our public entities. The national trend toward tax limitation, the new focus on "entrepreneurial" or business-oriented government, the increasing involvement of the business community in public education, all reveal a profound dissatisfaction -- or misunderstanding -- of the purpose and processes of the public sector.
Nowhere is this crisis as obvious as with our public schools.
In many respects public schools have become the dumping ground of our national conscience. If children aren't fed well enough at home, then schools must launch nutrition programs. If there's a problem with parental work schedules, then schools must provide extended daycare.
Yet somehow, schools are still expected to teach, to provide the basic cultural knowledge necessary to communicate with others, and to thrive.
Before any institution can succeed, it must maintain a clear focus on just what its job is. I fear that we have overloaded our public school system with unrealistic expectations, made of it a mishmash of conflicting purposes.
Yet I remain optimistic about public education -- whose fate, I believe, is closely tied to public libraries.
Public schools and public libraries remain the keys to self- improvement. They provide a series of opportunities for accomplishment -- whatever the socio-economic background or age of the individual. Alone among our public institutions, they help level the cultural and economic playing field.
There is certainly room for improvement in both public schools and public libraries. But as we poke and prod these institutions, we must also remember to preserve their inherent democracy, and to resist the many attempts to confound their purposes -- because there is nothing in the private sector that will or can replace them.
Wednesday, March 10, 1993
March 10, 1993 - Pronouncements of doom
When I was 25 years old, I shared a house with a man named Bill. He worked as a clerk for an academic library. I was going to library school.
Bill was a big believer that Things -- world peace, race relations, American politics generally -- were headed for total collapse. Probably by the weekend.
Bill was no dummy, either. He could reel off some fifty or sixty recent events -- which he always followed closely -- that strongly suggested not only that global disaster was imminent and unavoidable, but that we probably deserved it.
The trouble was, Bill had been carrying on like this for over 10 years. And although things weren't exactly looking up, by his 30th birthday it dawned on him that maybe they weren't that much worse, either. In the decade Bill had been predicting doom and living in near-poverty, most of his friends had pushed on to good careers, and were busily making house payments and kids.
In short, Bill had a life crisis. His girl-friend, tired of his endless cynicism, walked out on him. He started to drink too much. He became a chain-smoker. If I woke up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, there was Bill, sitting bleak and barren in the middle of the living room floor, staring blankly into the darkness.
I'm pleased to report that he snapped out of it. These days he's married, raising a son, working at a decent day job, and writing an astonishingly good science fiction novel on the side.
But I always think of Bill when people start predicting the imminent decline of some big institution.
Take public schools. A few years back, I got interested in home schooling. After doing some research, I was surprised to discover that most homeschooling parents don't have teaching degrees, and only spend an average of one to two hours per day per child on instruction.
Even more surprising was how well their kids did. As documented in numerous studies about home schooling, homeschoolers consistently outperform public school students. Often, homeschooled children are some one-to-three grades ahead academically. They also test higher on "self esteem" and social skills.
In other words, parents with no formal training tend to do better in one hour than trained professionals can do in six. When I first read that, it struck me as a scathing indictment of our educational system.
Now consider that around the country, there are fifteen times as many homeschoolers as there were last year. Here in Colorado, a ballot issue for school vouchers made it to last November's general election. More recently, there's a strong push for "charter" schools -- or "schools within schools." And there are also many computer pundits who believe personal computers and good educational software can completely supplant real, live teachers.
Given all this, you have to ask: Are public schools doomed, destined to be swept away by a combination of private alternatives? And is that good or bad?
A similar issue arises in public libraries. It happens that I have an electronic account on something called the Internet -- a "network of networks," linking big academic and computer systems around the world.
About a year ago, I had a personal computer problem -- I couldn't get DOS 5.0 to correctly display a menu screen. I spent three weeks hunting for the answer in books and magazines. I -- a trained information professional -- couldn't find it. I flat-out failed.
So for a lark, I posted the question on the Internet. And in just under half an hour, I got the answer. Actually, I got it twice. One of them was from a teenager in the Netherlands, still in high school. The other was from a professor in New Zealand.
To look at it another way, the shortest distance to a right answer was -- all the way around the world.
If you're inclined to have an attitude about such things, you might easily assume that this is a "scathing indictment" of public libraries -- as profound a challenge to libraries as that of homeschooling to public education.
So it's only fair to ask: Are public libraries doomed, too? Some of my colleagues think so. And a lot of the people on the Internet do, too.
I'm inclined to be flip about this -- maybe because I'm about to leave on vacation for a week. Or maybe it's because I still have this image of Bill, all depressed because things weren't falling to pieces as fast as he'd said they would .
Or maybe (WARNING, bad pun about to follow), Armageddon too old to believe much of anything people tell me until I've thought about it for awhile.
See you in two weeks!
Bill was a big believer that Things -- world peace, race relations, American politics generally -- were headed for total collapse. Probably by the weekend.
Bill was no dummy, either. He could reel off some fifty or sixty recent events -- which he always followed closely -- that strongly suggested not only that global disaster was imminent and unavoidable, but that we probably deserved it.
The trouble was, Bill had been carrying on like this for over 10 years. And although things weren't exactly looking up, by his 30th birthday it dawned on him that maybe they weren't that much worse, either. In the decade Bill had been predicting doom and living in near-poverty, most of his friends had pushed on to good careers, and were busily making house payments and kids.
In short, Bill had a life crisis. His girl-friend, tired of his endless cynicism, walked out on him. He started to drink too much. He became a chain-smoker. If I woke up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, there was Bill, sitting bleak and barren in the middle of the living room floor, staring blankly into the darkness.
I'm pleased to report that he snapped out of it. These days he's married, raising a son, working at a decent day job, and writing an astonishingly good science fiction novel on the side.
But I always think of Bill when people start predicting the imminent decline of some big institution.
Take public schools. A few years back, I got interested in home schooling. After doing some research, I was surprised to discover that most homeschooling parents don't have teaching degrees, and only spend an average of one to two hours per day per child on instruction.
Even more surprising was how well their kids did. As documented in numerous studies about home schooling, homeschoolers consistently outperform public school students. Often, homeschooled children are some one-to-three grades ahead academically. They also test higher on "self esteem" and social skills.
In other words, parents with no formal training tend to do better in one hour than trained professionals can do in six. When I first read that, it struck me as a scathing indictment of our educational system.
Now consider that around the country, there are fifteen times as many homeschoolers as there were last year. Here in Colorado, a ballot issue for school vouchers made it to last November's general election. More recently, there's a strong push for "charter" schools -- or "schools within schools." And there are also many computer pundits who believe personal computers and good educational software can completely supplant real, live teachers.
Given all this, you have to ask: Are public schools doomed, destined to be swept away by a combination of private alternatives? And is that good or bad?
A similar issue arises in public libraries. It happens that I have an electronic account on something called the Internet -- a "network of networks," linking big academic and computer systems around the world.
About a year ago, I had a personal computer problem -- I couldn't get DOS 5.0 to correctly display a menu screen. I spent three weeks hunting for the answer in books and magazines. I -- a trained information professional -- couldn't find it. I flat-out failed.
So for a lark, I posted the question on the Internet. And in just under half an hour, I got the answer. Actually, I got it twice. One of them was from a teenager in the Netherlands, still in high school. The other was from a professor in New Zealand.
To look at it another way, the shortest distance to a right answer was -- all the way around the world.
If you're inclined to have an attitude about such things, you might easily assume that this is a "scathing indictment" of public libraries -- as profound a challenge to libraries as that of homeschooling to public education.
So it's only fair to ask: Are public libraries doomed, too? Some of my colleagues think so. And a lot of the people on the Internet do, too.
I'm inclined to be flip about this -- maybe because I'm about to leave on vacation for a week. Or maybe it's because I still have this image of Bill, all depressed because things weren't falling to pieces as fast as he'd said they would .
Or maybe (WARNING, bad pun about to follow), Armageddon too old to believe much of anything people tell me until I've thought about it for awhile.
See you in two weeks!
Wednesday, March 3, 1993
March 3, 1993 - volunteer data project
To some people, moving to a new town is a lot of fun. They like the challenge of change. They enjoy figuring out how the streets run. They get a keen pleasure from puzzling out a new batch of faces and personalities.
Other people -- especially those folks who moved because their spouses got new jobs -- find it very difficult to get settled. They may spend long, lonely years before they even begin to feel that they know their way around, or can go some place and be recognized.
There are many strategies for getting rooted in your new home town (or county, or state). The first, and to my mind the most important, is to read the newspaper. Of course, those of you who are reading this, already know that; and those who don't read the paper, sure won't find out here.
A second strategy is to join something: a church, a social group, a school committee, a civic club, even a library. Such organizations provide a ready mix of people, with a high probability that many of them will care about the same things you do.
A third approach -- and one of the most rewarding -- is to become a volunteer.
No one really knows for sure just how many volunteers there are in the United States. A 1989 Gallup Survey showed volunteer hours totaled 20.5 billion. More important than the numbers of volunteers is the fact that many organizations absolutely depend on them.
One such organization is the Adult Center for Training, or ACT. ACT is a Douglas County literacy program, currently serving Castle Rock, Parker, and Highlands Ranch. In brief, it pairs people who don't know how to read with people willing to donate their time to teach them.
But ACT isn't alone. Throughout the county are many other worthy organizations performing a variety of useful and interesting tasks. And volunteering for such organizations can provide a fascinating introduction to the people and services of an area.
Volunteerism can also lead to jobs. It often does lead to positions on Boards of Directors. For instance, our newest Library Trustee, Sue Meacham, volunteered in the library's Technical Services Department for several years. Now she's one of my bosses.
I'm thinking about volunteers lately for several reasons. First, the indefatigable Beryl Jacobson (Douglas County Extension Agent and fellow News Press columnist) has secured a grant to gather information about volunteer opportunities in the county. Second, it happens that Suzanne LaRue, a librarian who happens to be my wife, is the project director.
Third, after all this information is gathered, the Douglas Public Library District will add it to our Community Information Referral system. People will be able to search this database either at the library, or by "dialing in" to it via a home computer.
We'll design the system so people can search for volunteer opportunities either by a subject that interests them ("gardening," for instance), or the location ("Parker"), or both.
So if you happen to work for a not-for-profit organization located in or serving Douglas County residents, and you'd like a little electronic solicitation of volunteer assistance, give Suzanne a call at 681-3405, or at the Extension Office (688-3096).
And if you happen to be someone looking to BE a volunteer, watch this space for more information soon. In the meantime, give Kathy Walsh of ACT a call at 841-8615. Evenings are best.
Other people -- especially those folks who moved because their spouses got new jobs -- find it very difficult to get settled. They may spend long, lonely years before they even begin to feel that they know their way around, or can go some place and be recognized.
There are many strategies for getting rooted in your new home town (or county, or state). The first, and to my mind the most important, is to read the newspaper. Of course, those of you who are reading this, already know that; and those who don't read the paper, sure won't find out here.
A second strategy is to join something: a church, a social group, a school committee, a civic club, even a library. Such organizations provide a ready mix of people, with a high probability that many of them will care about the same things you do.
A third approach -- and one of the most rewarding -- is to become a volunteer.
No one really knows for sure just how many volunteers there are in the United States. A 1989 Gallup Survey showed volunteer hours totaled 20.5 billion. More important than the numbers of volunteers is the fact that many organizations absolutely depend on them.
One such organization is the Adult Center for Training, or ACT. ACT is a Douglas County literacy program, currently serving Castle Rock, Parker, and Highlands Ranch. In brief, it pairs people who don't know how to read with people willing to donate their time to teach them.
But ACT isn't alone. Throughout the county are many other worthy organizations performing a variety of useful and interesting tasks. And volunteering for such organizations can provide a fascinating introduction to the people and services of an area.
Volunteerism can also lead to jobs. It often does lead to positions on Boards of Directors. For instance, our newest Library Trustee, Sue Meacham, volunteered in the library's Technical Services Department for several years. Now she's one of my bosses.
I'm thinking about volunteers lately for several reasons. First, the indefatigable Beryl Jacobson (Douglas County Extension Agent and fellow News Press columnist) has secured a grant to gather information about volunteer opportunities in the county. Second, it happens that Suzanne LaRue, a librarian who happens to be my wife, is the project director.
Third, after all this information is gathered, the Douglas Public Library District will add it to our Community Information Referral system. People will be able to search this database either at the library, or by "dialing in" to it via a home computer.
We'll design the system so people can search for volunteer opportunities either by a subject that interests them ("gardening," for instance), or the location ("Parker"), or both.
So if you happen to work for a not-for-profit organization located in or serving Douglas County residents, and you'd like a little electronic solicitation of volunteer assistance, give Suzanne a call at 681-3405, or at the Extension Office (688-3096).
And if you happen to be someone looking to BE a volunteer, watch this space for more information soon. In the meantime, give Kathy Walsh of ACT a call at 841-8615. Evenings are best.
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