When I walked in my library this morning, I had no internet. No intranet, even–I couldn’t load the high school home page at all.

On another morning this might have sent me into a panic, but I already knew I had a light schedule for the day and wouldn’t be giving out many library passes because today’s an advisory day for frosh and sophomores, so I headed over to the front office, remembering that one of our secretaries was out for the day and her counterpart might need a hand.

Half an hour later, I returned to find that one of our paras had graciously stepped up and made a pencil and paper list of passes for juniors and seniors as well as one for a handful of book checkouts.

Low tech? Absolutely. Just as effective in a pinch? You bet!

Technology is absolutely woven into my daily life. I spend most of the day at work in front of a computer, whether I’m checking the library’s Google calendar or renewing a book or asking colleagues reader’s advisory questions via Twitter. But the more I think about it, the more I realize I still have a lot of low-tech tasks in my life–for better and for worse.

On the annoying-but-perhaps-necessary side, there are things like hall passes (written by hand) and purchase orders (multiple carbons for each order).

But then there are the helpful things–notes to myself, post-its on books or magazines I leave in teacher mailboxes, handwritten lists of call numbers when I’m pulling reserve items, a bulletin board with clippings from school sporting events or plays.

Could I be using technology for these tasks?

Sure, I could use email or Google docs to leave notes for myself. I could send emails to teachers instead of using post-its. I could print out call number ranges and write about recent events on the library blog instead of sitting at the paper cutter in the morning and carefully stapling football articles to construction paper.

But do I really want technology for these tasks?

So often we engage in the Big Picture debates when it comes to technology and libraries. How do print books stack up to e-readers? What role does social networking play in learning and teaching? Do teens need libraries to be full of shelves or monitors?

But the big picture is made up of so many little pictures. By saving ourselves time and energy, are we losing out on face time with colleagues–or teens? I communicate with teachers a lot by phone or email, but I’m thrilled when they come down to the library in person. Just yesterday one came by to say she’d read my interview in the student paper and thought I might be interested in a movie that mentions The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter. How much nicer to get a DVD handed to me than an email suggesting I add it to my Netflix queue!

So what low-tech tasks are still a part of your daily life? Which ones do you treasure, and what kind of carbon copies do you wish would catch up to the times?

Midwinter is rapidly approaching. Those of us who already live in Boston don’t have much to do besides feel smug about how much we’re saving on airfare, but for folks coming in from out of town–particularly if it’s your first time in our fair city–no doubt the questions have already started. Is there anything to do on the waterfront? What’s the best way to get around the city? Where have all the R’s gone, and what is this “chowdah” you speak of?

First, no, there isn’t a spectacular amount on the waterfront, particularly not in January, which has a tendency to be frigid in these parts. There is the Institute of Contemporary Art, though, and the convention center isn’t far from the Harpoon Brewery or the Channel Cafe, a lovely restaurant tucked in amongst some art galleries on Summer Street. (Vegetarians rejoice: their house-made veggie burger is like a samosa on a bun. Heavenly.)

If you want to venture out into the other parts of the city (and you should!) your best bet is the MBTA. If you’re staying three days or more I’d actually recommend a 7-day pass, which at $15 will pay for itself pretty quickly–you’ll get unlimited rides on the subway, local buses, the inner-harbor ferry, and the inner zone of the commuter rail, versus $2 a ride on the subway if you just buy a paper ticket. (iPhone users: there’s an app for that.)

Renting a car in Boston doesn’t make much sense (our drivers aren’t actually that bad–they’re just used to the bizarre, misleading, or non-existent street signage, and you’re not), and taxis can be pricey–though they’re pretty much your only option when the subway stops running (which is, for the record, before the bars close).

Fanueil Hall/Government Center
Relevant T stops: Government Center (green line), State (orange)
If you want to be Touristy McTouristpants, start here. You can see (but don’t fight) City Hall, grab some authentic Boston baked beans at Durgin Park, or sit down at that bar that inspired Cheers. (Actually, that bar’s on Beacon Street… but the replica is in Fanueil Hall.)

Chinatown/Downtown/Theatre District
Relevant T stops: Chinatown (orange), Downtown Crossing (orange/red), Park (red/green), Boylston (green)
Looking for amazing dim sum? Head to Chinatown, where you’ll find a plethora of Chinese bakeries. For Sunday brunch definitely check out Empire Garden (or Emperor’s Garden, depending on which sign you read), a restaurant inside a restored theater that seats the whole neighborhood. Head downtown for shopping, Boston Common and the public gardens, and the biggest multiplex in town. If you’re more interested in Blue Man Group or taking in some theater, head to the theater district and don’t miss Jacob Wirth for your pre-show dining.

Cambridge
Relevant T stops: Kendall, Central, Harvard, Porter, Davis (all red)
Cambridge is actually pretty sprawling, and the spots you should hit depend on your mood. Want to see an independent film or hang out with the MIT crowd? Head to Kendell, home of Cambridge Brewing Company and the Kendell Square Cinema. More interested in live music and a plethora of bars? Stop at Central for venues like The Middle East and TT The Bear’s. Hoping to dramatically re-enact scenes from Good Will Hunting? Head to Harvard Square, where you can either try to blend in with the undergraduate population (Noch’s, The Kong, Charlie’s) or avoid them somewhat (Darwin’s, Grendel’s, Brattle Theater).

Often overlooked are the more Somerville-y ends of town. Head to Davis for Kickass Cupcakes. Inman Square, a short walk from Central, is home to great food and bars, including Punjabi Dhaba and Bukowski’s.

The North End
Relevant T Stop: Haymarket (orange)
You’ll do a bit of walking, but the amazing Italian food–the streets are packed with everything from fine dining to tiny mom & pop places–is well worth the wait. You can also plan on some laughs at Improv Asylum before you head over to Mike’s Pastry for more cannoli than you should probably eat.

The South End
Relevant T stop: Back Bay (orange, commuter rail)
A short walk from Back Bay brings you to some fantastic dining (check out Sibling Rivalry or Hamersley’s Bistro if you don’t believe me), as well as the Boston Center for the Arts.

Jamaica Plain (JP)
Relevant T stops: Jackson, Stonybrook, Green, Forest Hills (all orange)
Want to tour the Sam Adams Brewery? Check. Looking for a plethora of edible options, from amazing sandwiches at City Feed to fine dining at Ten Tables? Check. Care to visit a beautiful and historic cemetery, get a sweet tattoo, or just get some really good ice cream? Check, check and check.

For more Boston ideas, don’t forget to check the YALSA wiki. And other Boston folks–speak up! What did I forget? (Aside from the aquarium, and where to find good chowdah–last week’s Heroes episode would have us believe it’s only at Legal Sea Foods, but I know you have opinions.)

I once worked in a library where, despite a gigantic REFERENCE sign prominently located by the front entrance, patrons were constantly coming to circulation to ask where the reference desk was. Actually, patrons asked us about everything–often without looking at the prominently located floor plan or just about any sign in the building. (”We’re librarians,” my boss once said, with more than a little snark–”We like to put everything on little signs and then complain when no one reads them.”)

I’ve been thinking about signage and organization a lot lately, because my students seem to have a really hard time finding anything in my library. And I don’t just mean the Stephen King novels, which until recently were inexplicably shelved in the periodicals room.

Part of the problem is that I never got the chance to really give library orientations at the beginning of the year, and part of the problem is a funky layout (Stephen wasn’t the only one languishing in the periodicals room) that I haven’t quite gotten around to completely remedying.

But a bigger issue, I think, is the way my students want to find books. They’re browsers, and wanderers, and amblers. They stroll along the fiction shelves, and then end up coming back to the circulation desk and asking, “Do you have any books about…?” Or genre questions (”Where’s the science fiction?”), which are making me seriously reconsider the way our fiction is shelved–alphabetical by author, regardless of genre.

So how do you organize your collection? Are you still using strictly Dewey or LC call numbers, or do you operate more thematically? Do you separate popular genres out from fiction at large? Do you have a distinct location for graphic novels? What about non-fiction graphic titles? Are your shelf labels and signs exasperated-librarian-tiny, or supermarket-aisle-huge?

With major revelations in the Shepard Fairey copyright case hitting the news, image citation and copyright has been on my mind lately.  Maybe I’m a little over-sensitive because I hold a degree in art history, but failure to properly cite images has always been a pet peeve of mine. I cringe when I see students pulling photos and diagrams straight from a Google image search without bothering to find out the source of the image or credit its creator in any way.

But here’s my sad little secret: half the time I’m just as confused as my students when it comes to properly citing.

At a recent conference I was excited about a session on copyright for school librarians, but what looked like a solid overview was quickly derailed by very specific audience questions, so we never even got to the slide on images.  What’s a well-meaning librarian to do?

There’s Creative Commons, of course, which I think offers very clear explanations of copyright and terms of use–and is a great place to send teens when they want to find images. If you want cover images for your library blog (and who doesn’t?) you can easily obtain a developer key from LibraryThing and pretty much use CoverThing to your heart’s content.

But what about when you’ve found the absolutely perfect image online, and you’re not sure if you can use it?

This morning I’ve been hunting for propaganda images for a US History class coming into the library this week, and I came across a fantastic slide show from Life Magazine.  I immediately tried to track down citation information–I think it’s irresponsible to point my students to resources without knowing if or how they can be cited–but what I found was a pretty dense terms of use page geared toward commercial reproduction.

Luckily for me, Getty Images offers free online chat with their licensing experts. (Hi, Brad!) I quickly learned that images can be cited by photographer/artist and Getty Images, and that printing costs money–unless you print just the preview image with a Getty watermark, which is free.

Success! I found a great resource for my students, I got over my fear of feeling dumb and asked someone for help, and now I have very clear image use and citation guidelines for Getty Images–not to mention a very positive customer service experience online.

What’s your favorite story about copyright or a resource you love for images online?

Last night some friends and I were sitting around at dinner, and conversation turned to the recent National Equality March. Don’t recognize the name? You’re not alone–though news organizations report tens of thousands of participants, almost none of us at the table had heard about the march before it happened.

This came as some surprise, as we were a table full of very politically involved women–many of us participated in rallies in the wake of Proposition 8, or phone-banked for marriage equality in Maine and New Hampshire, or stumped for candidates in local elections. And we’d certainly gotten wind of other marches and events in the past, often making sure to mention them well ahead of time at our weekly dinners.

And then it dawned on me: we weren’t on Facebook.

All of my previous interactions with the kinds of groups that rally together for events like National Equality March happened on Facebook, but I recently deactivated my account. (Long story.) The other women at the table either don’t check their accounts regularly (and probably haven’t joined any groups or become fans of pages that would send them alerts) or never signed up in the first place.

It’s a sobering thought to realize you might miss an important event if the bulk of the organizing and promotion takes place on a social networking site you don’t use. And for many of us working in libraries, moments like these should be a wake-up call: if your district, school or branch prohibits social networking use, you’re missing out.

We talk a lot about which social networks teens are using and how you and colleagues can make sites like Twitter and Facebook part of your personal learning networks, but what about the ways we’re cutting ourselves off from the fabulous work other people are doing when we opt out of (or were never allowed to opt into) social networks?

You’ve probably heard about YALSA’s 2010 election slate, but did you know a whopping 14 YALSA members are running for ALA offices? It’s true!

Sarah Kelly Johns, Past President of the AASL and school library media specialist for grades 6-12 at Lake Placid (N.Y.) Middle/High School, is a candidate for ALA President. (For more information on the candidates for 2011-2012 ALA President, please see the ALA press release. ALA will be holding a forum for candidates running for the Executive Board on Monday, January 18, from 12:30 to 1:30 at the Midwinter Meeting.)

Thirteen YALSA members are running for Councilor-at-Large:

Paula Brehm-Heeger
Thomas Brogan
Ann Crewdson
Kelly Czarnecki
Naphtali Lanette Faris
Janice Greenberg
Carla Land
Jessica Moyer
Robbie Leah Nickel
Elsworth Rockefeller
Doc Roth
Kevin Scanlon
Sylvia Vardell

These members have agreed to run and have had their names put forward by the ALA Nominating Committee. If you’re interested in running for Council you can still run as a petition candidate. Submit your petition by January 29th!

YALSA does not officially endorse any candidates for ALA office, but we do encourage you to get to know the candidates and vote. Your ALA membership must be current as of January 31st to vote in the election.

Here’s your chance to win $500 for your pocket and another $500 for your library!  YALSA members are eligible to apply for this award recognizing an outstanding reading or literature program for young adults.

If you have created an exceptional reading or literature program in the 12 months before December 1^st consider applying for the MAE Award for Best Literature Program for Teens.  The MAE Award is sponsored by the Margaret A. Edwards Trust.  The winner receives $500 and additional $500 for their library.

Application forms can be downloaded from YALSA and must be emailed to Nichole Gilbert at ngilbert@ala.org by December 1.

Not a member of YALSA?  It’s not too late to join!  Please note that it may take up to 2 months for new memberships to be fully processed.  New members should send an electronic copy of their membership application with the grant application.

For questions, contact Alexandra Tyle-Annen at atyle@homerlibrary.org.

Reward yourself for bringing young adults and books together and encouraging the development of life-long reading habits.  Apply today!

I had a conversation with a colleague over Twitter last week that didn’t sit particularly well with me. Her prediction: that soon we’ll have no shared culture at all. Soon we’ll be nothing but pod people.

How depressing! How bleak!

But wait…

Am I already a pod person?

The idea that the rise of social media actually means an end to shared culture is a bit counter-intuitive to me. Blogs, social networks and other multimedia tools (dare I say communities?) have made me feel closer to people around the country and around the world than I could have imagined before these tools were such an important part of my daily life. Blogs in particular have even helped me branch out in in the “real” world. I’ve made personal and professional contacts on the internet that may never have happened without it.

But the idea that seeking out like-minded folks on the internet could have a deleterious effect on local culture and communities has given me pause.

While it’s true that many of the blogs I follow shed light on folks who might be at the opposite end of the political spectrum, I’m not seeking these people out directly. And the same is more or less true of Twitter–I hear about, say, people who devalue libraries, or don’t believe in school librarians, or believe technology is nothing but a blight for teens and learning… but I don’t follow those people.

The question, then, is this: by seeking out like minds, whether it’s through Twitter or a regional listserv, are we overlooking community partnerships at home? As with most either/or situations I would hope this isn’t a true either/or–but are we really expanding the boundaries of the conversation, or using a megaphone to talk to a bigger herd of sheep?

I’m thrilled, for instance, that my state school library association has a cadre of active Twitter users updating the world at large about our annual conference (#msla2009, or #msla09 for the rebels who want to save characters), but are those tweets just bouncing around in an echo chamber of other librarians?

I’ve been working at my new job for less than a month, but already I’m raising some eyebrows. And for once, it’s not the piercings or tattoos.

And, no, it’s not even the shelf of new books (wildly popular new books, I might add) that maybe kinda sorta definitely have some risque content.

I’m not even talking about wiping out the library reservation system our teachers knew and loved with one fell swoop.

So what am I doing that’s so controversial?

Instruction.

Direct instruction to students was a vital part of my GSLIS school library teacher program, most notably my practicum experience and the internship I worked just before and after I graduated. From our required coursework on instructional strategies and curriculum frameworks to planning a lesson to teach fifth graders how to evaluate websites, I’m pretty comfortable when it comes to library instruction.

But mention that I want to give bibliographic instruction, and you’d think I’d suggested kicking off the school year with a bonfire using Catcher in the Rye as kindling.

If recent conversations on Twitter are any indication, some–perhaps many–librarians firmly believe that bibliographic instruction isn’t a librarian’s job. From worries about time pressures to a more philosophical belief that librarians should help teens find information, not evaluate or use it, concerns about bibliographic instruction raise more fundamental questions about my role as a school librarian.

Are we really here just to help teens find information, and should we just walk away if they have questions about how to use it? When it comes to content that classroom teachers could or should be teaching (and when that content is research skills, that’s probably a conversation in itself!) do we decide instruction isn’t worth our time? And heck, do teens even need to know how to do bibliographies by hand?

Personally, I’d say the answers are no, no, no, and sort of–but what do you think? And does it make a difference if we’re school librarians or public librarians?

Those of us who have ever had the luxury of working as part of a team–particularly that rare, unicorn-like beast that is the school library team–know how easy it is to take good co-workers for granted. Not sure how to approach a reference question? Consult the team. Need someone to grab the other end of that table so you can rearrange furniture for a DDR tournament? Ask a co-worker. Forgot to pack a lunch and need to pop out for a bite? You can probably get desk coverage if you ask real nice.

But what do you do when suddenly you’re the only librarian in the building?

It’s one thing if you’ve been working in the library before and find yourself suddenly flying solo. But for new librarians like me who are showing up on the job and discovering mostly empty drawers and the odd rubber band box, the need for help suddenly starts feeling pretty dire. It’s time to introduce yourself to some of the folks who should become your new best friends:

Janitorial Staff. No matter what kind of library you’re in, someone somewhere has a master set of keys, and one day you may just need them. Janitorial and building operations staff can also be lifesavers when it comes to climate control, maintenance issues, and, heaven forbid, pest control.

Secretaries. This is more for those of us in school libraries, who should probably all be working on that first batch of cookies for our friendly front office staff. If you’re not sure who to ask about just about anything, from purchase orders to highlighters, chances are the secretary can at least point you in the right direction.

Security. Whether you work in a big public library with private security staff or a school with district-assigned officers, you should find out pronto who’s in charge of building security. These are the folks to check in with when you’re scheduling events outside normal building hours, and of course in the case of an emergency. And don’t let the title intimidate you–security folks are some of the sweetest people you’ll ever meet, and they’re there to support you.

IT, Network and Tech Specialists. Many of us now have technology integration somewhere in our job description, but being a whiz with wikis and podcasts doesn’t help much if the network’s down or the printer breaks. Know where to go for more advanced troubleshooting, and don’t be embarrassed if you think you’re asking a dumb question–just as you would walk a teen through the steps of creating a Google Doc, a good tech professional can explain what they’re doing and how to do it yourself the next time around.

Guidance, SPED and Student Support Staff. If you’re in a school, make very good friends with the counselors, special education coordinators and other student support professionals in your school. They’re the ones who will be able to help you navigate the world of IEPs and 504s, tell you about referring teens to the appropriate services, and help you make sure your library programs are accessible to all teens. And public librarians should seek out these folks, too–they know all about the teens who show up in your libraries after school’s out, whose needs and challenges don’t disappear when they leave the school building.

Other Librarians. I can’t stress enough the importance of networking with other librarians, whether it’s on Twitter, through YALSA and regional associations, or face to face over coffee. Get to know the other librarians in your area and don’t be afraid to ask for advice or bounce an idea off of one of them.

Every library is different, of course, so where I’m leaning on a vice principal, you might find the local florist to be an invaluable resource.

So where do you go for help?