About twenty years ago, I went with some other librarians to the Greeley mall. We were going to stage a "read in."
The idea was this: we put up some library signs, then stepped into a sort of reading corral. When small children would come by, we'd invite them to listen to a story. We'd taken a bunch of kid's books with us.
Shortly after I arrived, a little boy walked along who was about the same size as my daughter Maddy was back then. I suppose he was about a year old.
Utterly without thinking, I treated him just like her. I picked him up, spun him around, dropped into a cross-legged position on the ground, and opened up a book in front of him.
And two things immediately became apparent. First, I could sense from the corner of my eye the mother freezing up. "Uh oh," I thought. "I just snatched this boy right from under her. Bad idea."
But the other odd thing was that it was perfectly clear that nobody had ever read to this child before. He didn't know where to look.
You know how long it takes to learn how to follow the rhythm of reading a book? Opening the book, starting on the left, moving to the right, turning the page?
It takes two pages.
And within two pages, this little boy was acting just like Maddy: Relaxed in my lap, head turning smoothly with the pages. He was interested.
We finished the book, and I think read another one. Then I handed the boy gingerly back to the mom. He smiled happily at me, and at her. I apologized to the mother: "I didn't mean to frighten you. He's just the same size as my daughter."
And the mother said something that has stayed with me over the years: "I had no idea he was ready." She had somehow thought she would start reading aloud to him when he was older. How old, I don't know.
Early exposure to books is important. There are some significant correlations in behavior and attaining fluency.
For instance, one of the best predictors of 4th grade fluency is the ability, by about kindergarten, to recognize the letters in our alphabet. Children who have trouble learning to read in 1st grade are quite likely to have trouble in 4th. As I noted here a couple of weeks ago, reading scores in 3rd and 4th grade are reliable predictors of the prison population.
There's good news: several studies have demonstrated that one of the best predictors of academic success is a strong school library program.
But within the state, many school libraries are in crisis. The average copyright date of a book in Colorado's school libraries is 15 years. Many have no librarians.
We know exactly what to do to improve reading scores in Colorado -- but, in most schools, choose not to. It baffles me.
Then there's this even more alarming statistic from the 2008 Report of the National Commission on Adult Literacy. Alone among the first world (democratized, free market) countries, the United States' current generation is less well educated than the previous one.
That's worth restating. In other developed nations, the current generation is better educated than their parents. In our country, the trend is in the opposite direction.
Today, 1 in 3 young adults will drop out of high school.
We know that low literacy is correlated with family poverty. It seems likely to me that it is also correlated with our ability to compete in a global economy.
Following the mall encounter, I remember being very glad to see that young mother show up with her toddler at our library. She learned something important: the time to start investing in your child's future is now.
I hope our nation is as smart.
---
LaRue's Views are his own.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Thursday, October 23, 2008
October 23, 2008 - personal appeal for 5A
About 70% of the currently registered voters in Douglas County requested mail ballots this year. I've already got mine. And like an estimated 70% of that group, I'll fill it out and return it in three days.
So by the time you read this, the election, at least in Douglas County, may be over. But please do not let that stop you from voting! We won't know the results until November 4, and every vote counts.
It really does. Last year, the library lost its measure by just 210 votes out of 42,000 cast. Only thirty-four percent of the voters showed up last year. A little more than half of them -- so 17% of our voters -- decided the question.
I'll be honest. Although I went into last year's election, as I go into this one, understanding that the universe persists in doing what it does, not what I want it to do, that loss was surprisingly painful. I found it personally disappointing that the election was lost in my own home town of Castle Rock.
As one of our newer facilities, reflecting the many things we've learned in recent years, the Philip S. Miller Library is a model of 21st century librarianship. It is deeply integrated into the life of our community, demonstrating its value in many ways every single day.
But I have concluded the obvious: library use does not automatically translate into library support. Our demand is at least 9 times greater than the national average. Yet we narrowly lost an election right after our period of greatest gain.
We can cite our return on investment study all day long. An independent agency demonstrated that we return $5.02 in services, goods, and value for every tax dollar. But some people simply cannot make the jump of thinking of taxes as investments -- even when the dividend is a community they can be proud of.
We can point out our astonishing services to children. We provide thousands of programs every year. We check out more children's materials than any library in the state, when we are not the largest library, or have the most children, or even the most children's books. But if you don't have children yourself, you may not appreciate the value of early literacy.
We can underscore the point that our negotiation of donated land collapses if the library loses this election. That would make any future expansion many times more expensive, in locations not nearly as well centered. But people who haven't negotiated such agreements think, "how hard can it be?"
Eighteen years ago, Douglas County's libraries were reckoned dead last among Colorado's library systems. Today, according to a recent national ranking, we are among the top five in the entire United States. That speaks volumes (hah) about the keen interest of our citizens in competent and responsive service.
But in the 12 years since our last tax increase, we've developed some capital needs that require reinvestment.
Like everyone else, I've watched with concern the recent economic thrashings on Wall Street. But I also know this: library use takes a big jump at such times, further straining an already overstressed system.
I know, too, that tomorrow's jobs will not find their beginning on Wall Street. They'll start on Castle Pine's Monarch Blvd., Castle Rock's Wilcox Street, Highlands Ranch Parkway, Lone Tree's Lincoln Ave., Parker's Mainstreet, and Roxborough's Rampart Range Road.
They'll start with someone researching a business idea at the library.
I believe that while public libraries are not the only tool communities can or should use in order to thrive, it is one of our best.
Douglas County Libraries has worked hard to earn the thoughtful support of our citizens, and has made its case in detail to anyone who would listen.
In turn, we have listened to voter concerns, and tightened our proposal accordingly. We reduced the request to a single mill. We will sunset 40% of the increase when our new buildings are paid off.
Humbly, I ask for your vote in support of the future of your library. That vote will ensure stronger libraries for our entire county, to the immediate benefit of all our communities.
Please, say YES to libraries in 2008.
---
LaRue's View are his own.
So by the time you read this, the election, at least in Douglas County, may be over. But please do not let that stop you from voting! We won't know the results until November 4, and every vote counts.
It really does. Last year, the library lost its measure by just 210 votes out of 42,000 cast. Only thirty-four percent of the voters showed up last year. A little more than half of them -- so 17% of our voters -- decided the question.
I'll be honest. Although I went into last year's election, as I go into this one, understanding that the universe persists in doing what it does, not what I want it to do, that loss was surprisingly painful. I found it personally disappointing that the election was lost in my own home town of Castle Rock.
As one of our newer facilities, reflecting the many things we've learned in recent years, the Philip S. Miller Library is a model of 21st century librarianship. It is deeply integrated into the life of our community, demonstrating its value in many ways every single day.
But I have concluded the obvious: library use does not automatically translate into library support. Our demand is at least 9 times greater than the national average. Yet we narrowly lost an election right after our period of greatest gain.
We can cite our return on investment study all day long. An independent agency demonstrated that we return $5.02 in services, goods, and value for every tax dollar. But some people simply cannot make the jump of thinking of taxes as investments -- even when the dividend is a community they can be proud of.
We can point out our astonishing services to children. We provide thousands of programs every year. We check out more children's materials than any library in the state, when we are not the largest library, or have the most children, or even the most children's books. But if you don't have children yourself, you may not appreciate the value of early literacy.
We can underscore the point that our negotiation of donated land collapses if the library loses this election. That would make any future expansion many times more expensive, in locations not nearly as well centered. But people who haven't negotiated such agreements think, "how hard can it be?"
Eighteen years ago, Douglas County's libraries were reckoned dead last among Colorado's library systems. Today, according to a recent national ranking, we are among the top five in the entire United States. That speaks volumes (hah) about the keen interest of our citizens in competent and responsive service.
But in the 12 years since our last tax increase, we've developed some capital needs that require reinvestment.
Like everyone else, I've watched with concern the recent economic thrashings on Wall Street. But I also know this: library use takes a big jump at such times, further straining an already overstressed system.
I know, too, that tomorrow's jobs will not find their beginning on Wall Street. They'll start on Castle Pine's Monarch Blvd., Castle Rock's Wilcox Street, Highlands Ranch Parkway, Lone Tree's Lincoln Ave., Parker's Mainstreet, and Roxborough's Rampart Range Road.
They'll start with someone researching a business idea at the library.
I believe that while public libraries are not the only tool communities can or should use in order to thrive, it is one of our best.
Douglas County Libraries has worked hard to earn the thoughtful support of our citizens, and has made its case in detail to anyone who would listen.
In turn, we have listened to voter concerns, and tightened our proposal accordingly. We reduced the request to a single mill. We will sunset 40% of the increase when our new buildings are paid off.
Humbly, I ask for your vote in support of the future of your library. That vote will ensure stronger libraries for our entire county, to the immediate benefit of all our communities.
Please, say YES to libraries in 2008.
---
LaRue's View are his own.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
October 16, 2008 - libraries build brains and community
After a recent talk I gave in Illinois, a Trustee asked me to help her understand the role of the public library in the 21st century. I said I thought it boiled down to this: libraries build brains and community.
Building brains has two parts. First, and most important, is the total immersion in language that has been proven to develop thick clusters of dendrites in the brains of infants, toddlers, and preschoolers. Those clusters of nerves are the biological basis of intelligence.
I've been doing a lot of reading about brain development and literacy. The two are tightly connected. Children who hear lots of stories, demanding attention, empathy, comprehension of new words, prediction of events, are not only smarter, kinder, and more competent human beings, they are also prepped for one of the most wondrous accomplishments of humankind: learning to read.
At our recent literacy summit, Douglas County Libraries invited the many literacy workers in the county to better coordinate all our services. I heard an interesting fact: prison planning is based on reading scores in 3rd grade. That is, the lower the literacy rate (and 3rd and 4th grade reading scores are solid predictors of that), the bigger the prison needs to be.
Let's put that in perspective. The current mill levy proposal by the Douglas County Libraries would increase taxes for a $300,000 household by about $24 a year -- the cost of one hardback book. The cost to incarcerate one person is about $25,000-$35,000 a year. Investing in the brains of infants saves money. And more than money.
But the growth of our intelligence doesn't stop with our admission to kindergarten. (Usually!) Libraries not only support the formal studies of young people K-12, we pick up on the other side of school, too. Whether you read for leisure or learning, libraries provide access to the most powerful tool for learning the human race has found: the book.
I've had some folks tell me that reading online is just as good, maybe better, than reading paper.
Not yet.
When we read online, we read snippets, visual sound bites. We read data. But to make real sense of that data, we need context and explicit connections.
That's what books do: set the environment, tie the factoids together, apply it back to that environment. The Internet is still mostly about data. Books are about knowledge.
Libraries, by their collections of print at all levels, by their advocacy of literacy in general, build our brains as long as we live, moving us from ignorance to knowledge, and, with luck, from prejudice to wisdom.
The second task of libraries is building community. This has several dimensions as well.
One way we build community is by providing basic research (competitive market analysis, business plans, funding strategies) for home-based businesses. That activity -- local business development -- has been for many years now the fastest growing sector of our economy.
Let's underline that point. Where will we find tomorrow's economic engine? Hint: it won't be on Wall Street. We'll find it right here in your local community. Your local library will be part of it.
We build community in another way by providing free public meeting space so the people can meet, discuss, share their learning, plan together. We're an anchor store not only for actual visits -- over one and a half million last year! -- but for the mall of the mind.
To put it another way, books are a great resource, but people are a resource, too. Getting them assembled and organized in a common and neutral space is much like organizing a collection of books.
It is my fervent belief that public libraries are an essential part of our community infrastructure, fully as vital as roads, and police, and fire protection.
It takes brains to know where you're driving to, it takes literacy to stay out of more than one kind of prison, and it takes knowledge to build a community that withstands the persistent flames of ignorance and fear.
------
LaRue's Views are his own.
Building brains has two parts. First, and most important, is the total immersion in language that has been proven to develop thick clusters of dendrites in the brains of infants, toddlers, and preschoolers. Those clusters of nerves are the biological basis of intelligence.
I've been doing a lot of reading about brain development and literacy. The two are tightly connected. Children who hear lots of stories, demanding attention, empathy, comprehension of new words, prediction of events, are not only smarter, kinder, and more competent human beings, they are also prepped for one of the most wondrous accomplishments of humankind: learning to read.
At our recent literacy summit, Douglas County Libraries invited the many literacy workers in the county to better coordinate all our services. I heard an interesting fact: prison planning is based on reading scores in 3rd grade. That is, the lower the literacy rate (and 3rd and 4th grade reading scores are solid predictors of that), the bigger the prison needs to be.
Let's put that in perspective. The current mill levy proposal by the Douglas County Libraries would increase taxes for a $300,000 household by about $24 a year -- the cost of one hardback book. The cost to incarcerate one person is about $25,000-$35,000 a year. Investing in the brains of infants saves money. And more than money.
But the growth of our intelligence doesn't stop with our admission to kindergarten. (Usually!) Libraries not only support the formal studies of young people K-12, we pick up on the other side of school, too. Whether you read for leisure or learning, libraries provide access to the most powerful tool for learning the human race has found: the book.
I've had some folks tell me that reading online is just as good, maybe better, than reading paper.
Not yet.
When we read online, we read snippets, visual sound bites. We read data. But to make real sense of that data, we need context and explicit connections.
That's what books do: set the environment, tie the factoids together, apply it back to that environment. The Internet is still mostly about data. Books are about knowledge.
Libraries, by their collections of print at all levels, by their advocacy of literacy in general, build our brains as long as we live, moving us from ignorance to knowledge, and, with luck, from prejudice to wisdom.
The second task of libraries is building community. This has several dimensions as well.
One way we build community is by providing basic research (competitive market analysis, business plans, funding strategies) for home-based businesses. That activity -- local business development -- has been for many years now the fastest growing sector of our economy.
Let's underline that point. Where will we find tomorrow's economic engine? Hint: it won't be on Wall Street. We'll find it right here in your local community. Your local library will be part of it.
We build community in another way by providing free public meeting space so the people can meet, discuss, share their learning, plan together. We're an anchor store not only for actual visits -- over one and a half million last year! -- but for the mall of the mind.
To put it another way, books are a great resource, but people are a resource, too. Getting them assembled and organized in a common and neutral space is much like organizing a collection of books.
It is my fervent belief that public libraries are an essential part of our community infrastructure, fully as vital as roads, and police, and fire protection.
It takes brains to know where you're driving to, it takes literacy to stay out of more than one kind of prison, and it takes knowledge to build a community that withstands the persistent flames of ignorance and fear.
------
LaRue's Views are his own.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
October 2, 2008- librarianship is a good life
I recently returned from the Illinois Library Association in Chicago, where I had the privilege of giving the keynote address. I was raised in that area and began my career there. So I had the chance to see a lot of old friends, colleagues, and early professional influences.
One of those influences was Dr. Fred Schlipf. Several decades ago now, I took an administrative practicum with him. He was then the director of the Urbana Free Library in downstate Illinois. Recently, he retired, although he still teaches at the university and does building consulting.
I showed up that morning, wearing my only tie (I was putting myself through grad school, and most of my clothes came from Salvation Army), and was told that Dr. Schlipf was in the children's room, downstairs. I went to join him. About halfway down the stairs, I realized that the previous night's rain had flooded the basement.
And there was Dr. Schlipf, jacket off, pants rolled up, a bucket in one hand and a mop in the other. He beamed at me: "Welcome to the administrative life!"
That's a pretty good introduction.
He also taught me something about how libraries should be run. He had me work a week in each department, learning what they all did. Then he asked me where I thought I'd seen any problems.
It wasn't in the "technical services department," where materials were ordered and processed. The backlog was 4 items, and they were a little embarrassed about that. (They got it cleaned up by the end of the hour.)
It wasn't in circulation, reference or children's (aside from the need for tighter seals on the walls, and a new pump). But there was a slight confusion of mission and practice in his local history area. Or so it seemed to me.
He asked me what I thought should be done about it. He asked, in fact, for a proposal. So I wrote one up.
Then he put me in charge of it. I got to call a series of meetings, work up agendas, and try to implement some changes. And I felt that working with his staff, we did just that.
That experience has served me in good stead through the years. To this day, I, too, value providing such "administrative practica" -- helping newcomers to the profession get a glimpse of the inner workings of an institution committed to excellence.
It not only brings a fresh set of eyes and perspective to our own issues, but it gives people the chance to see that change is not a wave of the magic wand; it's a process. It takes time, and tact, and persistence.
While in Chicago, I also got to have dinner with a woman I hired, years ago, as the supervisor of shelvers in Springfield's public library. She is, today, a library director herself, and her library won "Special Mention" in "the Best Small Library in America" competition this year.
Her name is Ann Hughes, and her library is in Glen Carbon, Illinois.
It's an obligation of those who received mentoring that mattered to pass it along, although Ann never needed much mentoring.
I returned just in time to see Dave Barry's hilarious address for the Douglas County Libraries Foundation's first annual Author Extravaganza, the excellent work of Margie Woodruff, Elizabeth Huber, Jennifer Pavlik, Kristin Hayek, and many others, including a host of volunteers.
My point: there are a lot of wonderful libraries and librarians out there, making a difference in their communities. It's a good life.
One of those influences was Dr. Fred Schlipf. Several decades ago now, I took an administrative practicum with him. He was then the director of the Urbana Free Library in downstate Illinois. Recently, he retired, although he still teaches at the university and does building consulting.
I showed up that morning, wearing my only tie (I was putting myself through grad school, and most of my clothes came from Salvation Army), and was told that Dr. Schlipf was in the children's room, downstairs. I went to join him. About halfway down the stairs, I realized that the previous night's rain had flooded the basement.
And there was Dr. Schlipf, jacket off, pants rolled up, a bucket in one hand and a mop in the other. He beamed at me: "Welcome to the administrative life!"
That's a pretty good introduction.
He also taught me something about how libraries should be run. He had me work a week in each department, learning what they all did. Then he asked me where I thought I'd seen any problems.
It wasn't in the "technical services department," where materials were ordered and processed. The backlog was 4 items, and they were a little embarrassed about that. (They got it cleaned up by the end of the hour.)
It wasn't in circulation, reference or children's (aside from the need for tighter seals on the walls, and a new pump). But there was a slight confusion of mission and practice in his local history area. Or so it seemed to me.
He asked me what I thought should be done about it. He asked, in fact, for a proposal. So I wrote one up.
Then he put me in charge of it. I got to call a series of meetings, work up agendas, and try to implement some changes. And I felt that working with his staff, we did just that.
That experience has served me in good stead through the years. To this day, I, too, value providing such "administrative practica" -- helping newcomers to the profession get a glimpse of the inner workings of an institution committed to excellence.
It not only brings a fresh set of eyes and perspective to our own issues, but it gives people the chance to see that change is not a wave of the magic wand; it's a process. It takes time, and tact, and persistence.
While in Chicago, I also got to have dinner with a woman I hired, years ago, as the supervisor of shelvers in Springfield's public library. She is, today, a library director herself, and her library won "Special Mention" in "the Best Small Library in America" competition this year.
Her name is Ann Hughes, and her library is in Glen Carbon, Illinois.
It's an obligation of those who received mentoring that mattered to pass it along, although Ann never needed much mentoring.
I returned just in time to see Dave Barry's hilarious address for the Douglas County Libraries Foundation's first annual Author Extravaganza, the excellent work of Margie Woodruff, Elizabeth Huber, Jennifer Pavlik, Kristin Hayek, and many others, including a host of volunteers.
My point: there are a lot of wonderful libraries and librarians out there, making a difference in their communities. It's a good life.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
September 25, 2008 - new responses to public comments
I've been giving a lot of my personal time lately to talking to various community groups about the library's ballot question this fall, question 5A. (And yes, these columns are written on my time, too.)
Let me begin with something wonderful. At every talk, someone tells me about the fine, often extraordinary service they got from our staff. I believe it.
Thank you, oh passionate and dedicated Douglas County Libraries staff! Your service is the library's product.
But some people also have doubts, questions, and concerns, not previously addressed in this space. I thought I'd speak to some of them here.
* The county has grown through the years. Haven't library revenues grown with it?
Yes, our revenues have grown (although not nearly as fast as demand!). But here's the bottom line: our annual budget is $20 million. The cost of a new, desperately needed library in Parker is $23 million. The cost of a new Lone Tree Library (and the structured parking it needs for the site) is another $20 million. Our current revenues are enough for our current operations. But they are not enough to build -- or operate -- the larger facilities Douglas County needs.
* The proposed Parker Library is not friendly to people with disabilities.
The proposed library is at this point little more than a site plan and concept. If new funding is approved, the library will give all of 2009 to a comprehensive and public design process. The needs of all our users will be carefully considered. We picked an architect, not a floor plan.
* The library should take a page from the school district and put mobile library buildings on the proposed new sites.
This proposal has at least four problems. First, the sites in Parker and Lone Tree are all on donated land. But the donation is contingent upon an election win. The owners offered that land because they want libraries, not trailers. And if the library issue fails, I guarantee the owners will quickly move to other options.
Second, libraries aren't classrooms. I can't help but wonder: How would we divvy up the space? Children's books in one mobile? Adult bestsellers in another?
Third, books are really heavy. The basic mobile isn't designed for the load. That means each one would need extensive modification, at significant cost.
Fourth, wouldn't all of these mobiles need dedicated staff? And backup staff? And restrooms? This begins to sound like a lot of overhead.
Here's my judgment: school-style mobiles, library trailers, are expensive, unwieldy, and would be utterly unsatisfactory to all parties. It's a bad solution for libraries.
* Library demand is driven by population growth. Assess a developer impact fee instead of trying to raise taxes!
Several developers have actually been very supportive of the library. But the library lacks any statutory authority to mandate developer fees. Nor can anyone else collect them for us. We depend upon the kindness of strangers.
* I'm concerned that (a) the library allowed Republicans to register voters outside the library, or (b) that the Democrats are distributing pro-library material.
OK, you caught us. The library is Republican. And Democrat. And unaffiliated. As rare as it may be in today's environment to say this, the library is definitively non-partisan. We are both neutral and common ground.
Surely, there must be some things we can agree on. Allow me to offer some suggestions:
* it is better to have children who read than children who don't.
* it is better to have citizens registered to vote than citizens who aren't.
* it is better to have voters who are well-informed than voters who are clueless. (Incidentally, see the library website for both online information and public programs about all kinds of election issues: DouglasCountyLibraries.org/Research/iGuides/DCElections, and DouglasCountyLibraries.org/Events/CivicEngagement.)
* it is better to support institutions that build community than to support efforts that divide us.
---
LaRue's Views are his own.
Let me begin with something wonderful. At every talk, someone tells me about the fine, often extraordinary service they got from our staff. I believe it.
Thank you, oh passionate and dedicated Douglas County Libraries staff! Your service is the library's product.
But some people also have doubts, questions, and concerns, not previously addressed in this space. I thought I'd speak to some of them here.
* The county has grown through the years. Haven't library revenues grown with it?
Yes, our revenues have grown (although not nearly as fast as demand!). But here's the bottom line: our annual budget is $20 million. The cost of a new, desperately needed library in Parker is $23 million. The cost of a new Lone Tree Library (and the structured parking it needs for the site) is another $20 million. Our current revenues are enough for our current operations. But they are not enough to build -- or operate -- the larger facilities Douglas County needs.
* The proposed Parker Library is not friendly to people with disabilities.
The proposed library is at this point little more than a site plan and concept. If new funding is approved, the library will give all of 2009 to a comprehensive and public design process. The needs of all our users will be carefully considered. We picked an architect, not a floor plan.
* The library should take a page from the school district and put mobile library buildings on the proposed new sites.
This proposal has at least four problems. First, the sites in Parker and Lone Tree are all on donated land. But the donation is contingent upon an election win. The owners offered that land because they want libraries, not trailers. And if the library issue fails, I guarantee the owners will quickly move to other options.
Second, libraries aren't classrooms. I can't help but wonder: How would we divvy up the space? Children's books in one mobile? Adult bestsellers in another?
Third, books are really heavy. The basic mobile isn't designed for the load. That means each one would need extensive modification, at significant cost.
Fourth, wouldn't all of these mobiles need dedicated staff? And backup staff? And restrooms? This begins to sound like a lot of overhead.
Here's my judgment: school-style mobiles, library trailers, are expensive, unwieldy, and would be utterly unsatisfactory to all parties. It's a bad solution for libraries.
* Library demand is driven by population growth. Assess a developer impact fee instead of trying to raise taxes!
Several developers have actually been very supportive of the library. But the library lacks any statutory authority to mandate developer fees. Nor can anyone else collect them for us. We depend upon the kindness of strangers.
* I'm concerned that (a) the library allowed Republicans to register voters outside the library, or (b) that the Democrats are distributing pro-library material.
OK, you caught us. The library is Republican. And Democrat. And unaffiliated. As rare as it may be in today's environment to say this, the library is definitively non-partisan. We are both neutral and common ground.
Surely, there must be some things we can agree on. Allow me to offer some suggestions:
* it is better to have children who read than children who don't.
* it is better to have citizens registered to vote than citizens who aren't.
* it is better to have voters who are well-informed than voters who are clueless. (Incidentally, see the library website for both online information and public programs about all kinds of election issues: DouglasCountyLibraries.org/Research/iGuides/DCElections, and DouglasCountyLibraries.org/Events/CivicEngagement.)
* it is better to support institutions that build community than to support efforts that divide us.
---
LaRue's Views are his own.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
September 11, 2008 - 9/11 was not Pearl Harbor
I remember talking to my father about the days before Pearl Harbor. Times were hard.
The list of problems passed from memory to history almost to legend: the Depression, the Dustbowl, bread lines, bankers leaping from Wall Street skyscrapers. Nothing seemed to be working: not business, not government, not even the weather.
Then, on December 7, 1941, a surprise attack by the Japanese against a United States naval base in Hawaii transformed public opinion almost overnight. Within two weeks, at least according to my father's WWII navy buddies, the United States went from a suspicious and isolationist stance to a unified nation braced for war.
The change was both immediate and remarkable.
The overall death toll at Pearl Harbor reached 2,350. On 9/11, almost 3,000 people died in the attacks. And here's this week's discussion question: Why didn't America snap into alignment the two weeks following September 11, 2001?
There are at least two possible reasons. First, we knew how to apply the idea of "war" to a nation. Japan was geographically distinct. It had a hierarchy of well known leaders.
The "war on terrorism," however, wasn't so clear. A nation can surrender. But how do you know when you finally beat the terrorists? Answer: You don't.
A never-ending war is one of the premises of George Orwell's "1984." It's not a good thing.
Second, there was a generational line-up in 1941 that was unusual.
There were older Americans who spoke with a strong moral authority -- part of the so-called "Missionary Generation," born between 1860 and 1882. FDR became their most powerful voice, uniting the nation through a series of "Fireside Chats." Commercial radio, then, was about where the Internet was in 2001.
There was also a mid-life generation of get-it-done generals. The "Lost Generation" (born 1883-1900) had survived their hardscrabble, hard-drinking youth, and faced the realities of war straight-on, without flinching.
Then there was the young "greatest generation," born 1901-1924. Heroic, optimistic, good scouts, they rallied together and gave their all.
Together, these three generations made up the perfect sequence of gifts and abilities to triumph in war.
Various historians have pointed out the similarities of generational types across the ages. The Missionaries were much like today's Boomers: fiery in youth, judgmental and self-righteous in midlife, compelling and powerful as seniors.
The Lost were much like today's GenXers. And the GI's had a lot in common with today's young Millennials.
So what was the difference? In brief, at the historic moment of 9/11, we were half a generation off. We were all just a little younger than the peak of our potential.
So instead of a sudden realignment into a socially cohesive society, with clearly defined, understood and accepted roles, we ... went shopping.
The odds are very good -- approaching certainty-- that the United States of America will face another crisis. What happens then may have less to do with the trigger than with the generational alignment of the nation holding the gun.
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LaRue's Views are his own.
The list of problems passed from memory to history almost to legend: the Depression, the Dustbowl, bread lines, bankers leaping from Wall Street skyscrapers. Nothing seemed to be working: not business, not government, not even the weather.
Then, on December 7, 1941, a surprise attack by the Japanese against a United States naval base in Hawaii transformed public opinion almost overnight. Within two weeks, at least according to my father's WWII navy buddies, the United States went from a suspicious and isolationist stance to a unified nation braced for war.
The change was both immediate and remarkable.
The overall death toll at Pearl Harbor reached 2,350. On 9/11, almost 3,000 people died in the attacks. And here's this week's discussion question: Why didn't America snap into alignment the two weeks following September 11, 2001?
There are at least two possible reasons. First, we knew how to apply the idea of "war" to a nation. Japan was geographically distinct. It had a hierarchy of well known leaders.
The "war on terrorism," however, wasn't so clear. A nation can surrender. But how do you know when you finally beat the terrorists? Answer: You don't.
A never-ending war is one of the premises of George Orwell's "1984." It's not a good thing.
Second, there was a generational line-up in 1941 that was unusual.
There were older Americans who spoke with a strong moral authority -- part of the so-called "Missionary Generation," born between 1860 and 1882. FDR became their most powerful voice, uniting the nation through a series of "Fireside Chats." Commercial radio, then, was about where the Internet was in 2001.
There was also a mid-life generation of get-it-done generals. The "Lost Generation" (born 1883-1900) had survived their hardscrabble, hard-drinking youth, and faced the realities of war straight-on, without flinching.
Then there was the young "greatest generation," born 1901-1924. Heroic, optimistic, good scouts, they rallied together and gave their all.
Together, these three generations made up the perfect sequence of gifts and abilities to triumph in war.
Various historians have pointed out the similarities of generational types across the ages. The Missionaries were much like today's Boomers: fiery in youth, judgmental and self-righteous in midlife, compelling and powerful as seniors.
The Lost were much like today's GenXers. And the GI's had a lot in common with today's young Millennials.
So what was the difference? In brief, at the historic moment of 9/11, we were half a generation off. We were all just a little younger than the peak of our potential.
So instead of a sudden realignment into a socially cohesive society, with clearly defined, understood and accepted roles, we ... went shopping.
The odds are very good -- approaching certainty-- that the United States of America will face another crisis. What happens then may have less to do with the trigger than with the generational alignment of the nation holding the gun.
-
LaRue's Views are his own.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
September 4, 2008 - "I am - the library"
Back when I lived in Greeley, I got word one day that Reverend Jesse Jackson was coming through town. It was his second run at the Presidency, and he was going to give a whistle stop talk. I had heard he was a good orator, so ran over on my lunch break to give him a listen.
He used the traditional call and response technique: he'd shout out a phrase, everyone would shout it back, and eventually, it would work into a complete sentence.
On the one hand, that's kind of fun. There's a lot of energy around that kind of group response. On the other hand, it reminds of the joke about why Unitarians make terrible choir members: they're all reading ahead to see if they still agree. I felt distinctly uncomfortable shouting out political statements when I didn't know quite where they were going.
Jesse Jackson is perhaps best known for his 1971 "I AM ... SOMEBODY" speech, which used the same technique. And that speech inspired an interesting project I just heard about. It's called "I Am -- the Library." It's an "ethnographic video project, which documents the everyday ways a public library is used."
It turns out that Jesse Jackson began his career as a civil rights activist when he fought to desegregate his hometown public library. He was 20 years old, so this was in 1961. The place was Greenville, South Carolina.
"I Am - the Library" is the work of sociologist Audrey Sprenger, Ph.D., and Emily Crenshaw and Mary Grace Legg of the Denver-based Production Company Lockerpartners. From January through August, they filmed over two hundred Denver residents talking about the library. It was timed to culminate at the Democratic National Convention.
Every year, Denver Public Library racks up more visitors than all of the city's sporting events combined. Not surprisingly then, there are people with a lot of stories to tell. The library, for many of them, is not just a place to go: it is at the very center of their lives. You can find a 2 minute clip about the project at denverlibrary.org/programs, a quick montage of people who literally put a face on their local library.
Getting libraries on film seems to be a trend. There's our own Public Service Announcement video (search for "Discover Your Library" on Youtube) -- which recently won an Emmy.
You can even search for "library musical" on Youtube and get a surprising number of hits. We've done that before, too, in our "Kit Carson's Last Campfire: the Musical," in which our entire Douglas County History Research Center breaks into song.
Sometimes it's hard to believe that just 47 years ago, there were segregated public libraries in America. Whatever your politics, it's impressive that today we have the first African American nominee for President by one of the two major parties.
And make no mistake: at your local public library -- and at the ballot box -- you are most definitely somebody.
He used the traditional call and response technique: he'd shout out a phrase, everyone would shout it back, and eventually, it would work into a complete sentence.
On the one hand, that's kind of fun. There's a lot of energy around that kind of group response. On the other hand, it reminds of the joke about why Unitarians make terrible choir members: they're all reading ahead to see if they still agree. I felt distinctly uncomfortable shouting out political statements when I didn't know quite where they were going.
Jesse Jackson is perhaps best known for his 1971 "I AM ... SOMEBODY" speech, which used the same technique. And that speech inspired an interesting project I just heard about. It's called "I Am -- the Library." It's an "ethnographic video project, which documents the everyday ways a public library is used."
It turns out that Jesse Jackson began his career as a civil rights activist when he fought to desegregate his hometown public library. He was 20 years old, so this was in 1961. The place was Greenville, South Carolina.
"I Am - the Library" is the work of sociologist Audrey Sprenger, Ph.D., and Emily Crenshaw and Mary Grace Legg of the Denver-based Production Company Lockerpartners. From January through August, they filmed over two hundred Denver residents talking about the library. It was timed to culminate at the Democratic National Convention.
Every year, Denver Public Library racks up more visitors than all of the city's sporting events combined. Not surprisingly then, there are people with a lot of stories to tell. The library, for many of them, is not just a place to go: it is at the very center of their lives. You can find a 2 minute clip about the project at denverlibrary.org/programs, a quick montage of people who literally put a face on their local library.
Getting libraries on film seems to be a trend. There's our own Public Service Announcement video (search for "Discover Your Library" on Youtube) -- which recently won an Emmy.
You can even search for "library musical" on Youtube and get a surprising number of hits. We've done that before, too, in our "Kit Carson's Last Campfire: the Musical," in which our entire Douglas County History Research Center breaks into song.
Sometimes it's hard to believe that just 47 years ago, there were segregated public libraries in America. Whatever your politics, it's impressive that today we have the first African American nominee for President by one of the two major parties.
And make no mistake: at your local public library -- and at the ballot box -- you are most definitely somebody.
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