Incoherent Scribblings

New readers to this blog or those of you who have not had a chance to go through the archives may ask upon reading these entries why I call myself the blondelibrarian: After all, it appears that I never talk about the library.

While it is true that I don’t talk much about the library, it is only because I haven’t worked there for three years. Three years ago today, I quit my job and ran off to get married and move overseas. However, that doesn’t change the fact that by education and training, I am, and will always be, a librarian. No one can take that diploma that quietly resides in the bottom of my “important paper” drawer away from me and someday when I go back to work, that is what I’ll do.

For the most part, I am currently satisfied being a domestic goddess. However, some days I get nostalgic for some of the more “interesting” days that I had while I was working at the reference desk.

At an American library, the circulation and reference desks are the most public areas and it is there that the most noteworthy patron encounters occur. I myself have had quite a number of “odd patron encounters,” but one in particular sticks out in my mind.

First of all, you must understand that professionally trained and educated librarians in the USA take their commitment to the First Amendment very seriously. We believe that our patrons the right to access information, no matter how bizarre the information requested might be.

Some years ago, I was working the reference desk at a university library that was not only open to the students, but the public as well. One evening, a very frazzled-looking young woman came in and asked me if we had a copy of The State Code.

I told her we did and led her to it. However, The State Code was a large collection of over 100 volumes and even for those of us trained to do so, it was not an easy set to use. As a reference librarian, it was my job to help her find the information she desired, but I needed a little bit more information to go on. So, I asked her if I could help her find what she was looking for.

Keeping her eyes on the floor, she hemm-hahed around for a few seconds before very quickly and just above a whisper replying, “I need to find out the penalty for harboring a fugitive.”

I was a little taken aback. She didn’t offer any more information concerning her request and though I wasn’t supposed to read anything into it, I couldn’t help but wonder why she needed to know such a thing. Nevertheless, I hid my curiosity and kept my professional demeanor while I found the passage she was looking for.

While librarians are trained to help people find information, to protect ourselves from law suits and such, we do not interpret information for patrons. So, when the young lady looked up quizzically from the volume and asked me what exactly all the legal-ease meant, I could help her no more. In my most professional tone, I told her so and left her to her own devices. A few minutes later, she left and I could tell from the look on her face that though she didn’t really understand everything The Code said, she didn’t like what she did understand.

For the next few days I watched the local news and kept my eyes on the local paper but I never did find out if she was just curious, if she was actually harboring a fugitive, or after reading The Code she changed her mind about it.