One thing was certain, as a classroom teacher the role of the librarian always fascinated me. But it seemed to me that me, the classroom teacher, was on one side of this looking glass and on the other side of the mirror’s reflection, another world which was the library.
I, the classroom teacher, was the person responsible for educating the future generation, mentoring, nurturing and being a role model. I was accountable for ensuring that “my children” were reading a book at the right level, comprehending what was read and synthesising information. I was in charge of the mundane life of the teacher, programming, report writing and the dreaded parent teacher interviews. I was on the side of the glass that reflected the everyday life of the teacher and the everyday workings of the school.
As I saw it, the teacher librarian at any school I had taught at “lived” on the other side of this looking glass. Stepping into their world meant a magical look into literature. It was not just the mechanics of checking in and checking out, it was a multifaceted world to motivate a reader’s imagination.
The teacher librarian role was to also ensure that the garden of books grew into a multipurpose world, where fiction and non-fiction books collided. The teacher librarian made sure that this garden continued to grow by plucking books from here and there to uphold the current nature of the resources. The teacher librarian tended to the garden, ensuring that each book was cared for, covered and kept pristine. It wasn’t until it began to show it’s age or had had a battering, that it was plucked from the garden, maybe replanted or possibly weeded altogether.
As a classroom teacher, I would occasionally pop my head through the looking glass to borrow some resources and choose some readers. I would not be able to stay there though, as this land was too far removed from my everyday world. It was always quiet and the teacher librarian had established it as somewhat of a refuge for some who were lucky enough to stay through their lunchtimes, reading, drawing, colouring or completing a puzzle, all of which were not the main priorities of my classroom.
There was also Book Week, an extraordinary time of the year when out of the looking glass, the librarian would emerge and the rest of the school would become who they had dreamed to be. Tweedledum and Tweedledee, queens, princesses, all the kings, their horses and men, lion’s and unicorns and of course, Alice. On this magical day, the librarian would orchestrate a parade of children (and some teachers) through the playground and a ruckus of delight would ensue. No prizes were given for “best costume”, it was a celebration of books, reading and the amazing characters we could become for just one day.
Then, back through the looking glass she would slip, back to her world, but separate to us. So close, yet so far removed from the rest of the school. Her life, what is it but a dream?
References
Carroll, L. (1982). Through the looking glass and what Alice found there. Modern Promotions.