Oh My!

I'm not going to say much, just going to direct you to two articles that have stuck a stake in my heart as both a librarian and a writer.

From the Boston Globe, "Welcome to the library. Say goodbye to the books."

Instead of a library, the academy is spending nearly $500,000 to create a "learning center," though that is only one of the names in contention for the new space. In place of the stacks, they are spending $42,000 on three large flat-screen TVs that will project data from the Internet and $20,000 on special laptop-friendly study carrels. Where the reference desk was, they are building a $50,000 coffee shop that will include a $12,000 cappuccino machine.

And this from CNN, "The Future of Libraries, With or Without Books."

In the United States, libraries are largely funded by local governments, many of which have been hit hard by the recession.

That means some libraries may not get to take part in technological advances. It also could mean some of the nation's 16,000 public libraries could be shut down or privatized. Schultz, of the Berkeley Law School, said it would be easy for public officials to point to the growing amount of free information online as further reason to cut public funding for libraries.

One more thing--last year we had an ice storm that left us without electricity for several days. I was able to pull a book off the shelf and read it. What happens when there's no electricity AND no books?

Poetry Friday--September, 1918

Photo by sarae
What is it about September that brings on melancholy thoughts?

This poem by Amy Lowell, "September, 1918," struck me as being as valid today as it was 90 years ago. Lately, I've been having thoughts about the two wars we are mired in. I, too, am trying to "balance myself/Upon a broken world" and it makes me oh, so, sad, since I don't see the hopeful "Some day there will be no war" ever coming to pass.

September, 1918

This afternoon was the colour of water falling through sunlight;
The trees glittered with the tumbling of leaves;
The sidewalks shone like alleys of dropped maple leaves,
And the houses ran along them laughing out of square, open windows.
Under a tree in the park,
Two little boys, lying flat on their faces,
Were carefully gathering red berries
To put in a pasteboard box.
Some day there will be no war,
Then I shall take out this afternoon
And turn it in my fingers,
And remark the sweet taste of it upon my palate,
And note the crisp variety of its flights of leaves.
To-day I can only gather it
And put it into my lunch-box,
For I have time for nothing
But the endeavour to balance myself
Upon a broken world.

This week's Poetry Friday Round-Up is being hosted by Kelly at Crossover.

Haiku Sticky #7

© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved

Reading Rainbow--No Pot of Gold at Its End

I didn't even realize Reading Rainbow was coming to an end until my daughter sent me a link to a story on NPR.

Wow, has it been 26 years? I watched many an episode with my two kids, and, many an episode on my own--it was such a good show! For years, at the library, we had all the Reading Rainbow books marked and shelved separately because the demand created by the program was so great. But, little by little, public interest waned and we reintegrated the books. We eventually stopped keeping up with the new shows' featured books when it seemed that the local schools were no longer involved in showing the program to their students.

I suppose Reading Rainbow's demise is one more reason to hate the prior administration. The NPR piece inteviewed John Grant, one of those involved in the production of RR, who saw a change in educational philosophy that:

wanted to see a much heavier focus on the basic tools of reading-- like phonics and spelling.

Grant says that PBS, CPB and the Department of Education put significant funding toward programming that would teach kids how to read--but that's not what Reading Rainbow was trying to do.

Anyone who ever watched knows what RR was trying to do--show kids that reading can not only be informative, it can be fun! Why are we no longer teaching kids that reading is fun? [Imagine me letting out a primal scream here.]

Another thing that will fall by the wayside is the "Reading Rainbow Young Writers and Illustrators Contest" that has been held annually for 15 years. I'd been involved with the contest for about a dozen years acting as a judge at NHPTV's studios in Durham. Every spring I'd join others in reading, discussing, and voting on the entries from a particular grade to designate a winner to go on to the national judging. To see one of the winners, from two years ago, that I loved, loved, loved, click here.

Isn't this cover fabulous? Especially when you consider it was created by a second grader!

Over the past few years many states' public television stations stopped participating in the contest, but New Hampshire continued its partnership. As a result, the number of entries increased with kids sending their stories from states far away. One of my special RR contest memories is attending the awards ceremony and seeing a little boy who had traveled all the way from Brooklyn, NY to receive his certificate. He wore a little suit and tie and the BIGGEST SMILE!

One more thing--several years back the RR website had a recommended list that included books other than those that were featured on the various episodes. I happened upon my picture book, Littlebat's Halloween Story, on the list. What a thrill that was for me.

So, thanks, Reading Rainbow, for everything you've done for me, and the millions of kids you touched over the years.

Poetry Friday--My Grave

I was a little surprised to hear that Ted Kennedy was going to be buried at Arlington National Cemetery. It's not that I didn't think he deserved the honor, he did, but to me a military cemetery is a cold, harsh place. Truly, I suspect the Senator would have preferred a grave in a place such as the one Ella Wheeler Wilcox wrote about in "My Grave."

If, when I die, I must be buried, let
No cemetery engulph me--no lone grot,
Where the great palpitating world comes not,
Save when, with heart bowed down and eyelids wet,
It pays its last sad melancholy debt
To some outjourneying pilgrim. May my lot
Be rather to lie in some much-used spot,
Where human life, with all its noise and fret,
Throbs on about me. Let the roll of wheels,
With all earth’s sounds of pleasure, commerce, love,
And rush of hurrying feet surge o’er my head.
Even in my grave I shall be one who feels
Close kinship with the pulsing world above;
And too deep silence would distress me, dead.

To continue to be connected to "the pulsing world" seems a more fitting end for a man who exuded amiability.

Today's Poetry Friday Round-Up is being held at Book Aunt, make sure to stop by!

Haiku Sticky #6

© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved

The Work Goes On, the Cause Endures...

"The work goes on, the cause endures, the hope still lives and the dreams shall never die."

Remembering Teddy Kennedy and hoping that one day his dreams of social justice will become a reality.