A librarian is a librarian is a librarian

There are all kinds of librarians.

There are librarians who work for the government. For the military. For businesses. For colleges. For religious institutions.

There are law librarians. Music librarians. Art librarians. Film librarians. Medical librarians.

There are those who work in cataloging. Technical services. Circulation. Shelving. Reference. Archivists. Interlibrary loan. Library accessibility.

And many, many more types of libraries and library career paths.

And yet, whenever I'm at a conference, talking with a vendor or someone who has just found out that I'm a librarian, I always get asked the same question: "School or public?"

When I answer that I'm neither, that I am in fact, a synagogue librarian, I get a look as if I've said I'm a librarian on the planet Neptune.

I'm used to explaining what I do over and over and over (and if you'd like to know, you can read more about a typical day in my library here.) But here's when it gets frustrating. When I see awards or grants limited to certain kinds of libraries or librarians and restricted to others. I wish that me, my patrons and my library were eligible just like all the other libraries and librarians out there.

I value all kinds of libraries, librarians and library employees. I hope you do too.

The Importance of Being a Mentor

The first time I attended an American Library Association (ALA) Annual conference I was completely overwhelmed. Which sessions should I attend? How was I going to fit everything into one weekend? How would I make any sense of this enormous association? I was attending graduate school at the time, didn't know anyone, and didn't know where to start.

I applied to the New Member Round Table (NMRT) conference mentor program and was matched with a librarian named Kris Springer. Kris met me on the first day of ALA Annual, at an incredibly early hour of the day, and explained to me how to navigate both the conference and the association. She told me about her experience on the Newbery Medal committee, and told me that I could one day be on a committee at that level. I got goosebumps and thought she was crazy. She helped me when I needed it and stayed in touch through the years.

It's now ten years after that first conference. I've been a conference mentor and a career mentor as much I've can. Sometimes officially through NMRT and sometimes unofficially when someone is at the start of their career and has questions. I've met with people I'm mentoring at conferences when I've had a loose schedule, and conferences where I've barely had a minute of free time. It's a priority to me and one of the most rewarding things I've done in my profession.

At the ALA Midwinter convention last month, I was so proud of all these wonderful librarians and so honored to have the privilege to watch how far they've come.

For me, the most emotional moment was watching Amy Forrester. I met Amy several years ago when she was in library school and attending her first ALA Annual conference. I told her the things one usually tells a first time attendee; how to take the shuttle bus and to listen to all those people who tell you to wear comfortable shoes. Over the years, I watched her become a confident and skilled children's librarian. I was overjoyed when she was appointed to the 2016 Geisel Committee. It was really overwhelming for me watching the Geisel committee, which she was a part of, announce their choices to the world at the press conference. I am so proud that she and her committee recognized outstanding books for beginning readers and may have changed the lives of some of the creators and readers of those books. I wish you could have heard me cheering.

Thank you, Kris, for getting up so early a decade ago; for your advice and for the advice of all the other mentors who have helped me out. Thank you to all the people I've mentored- for being such wonderful professionals who I'm so proud of, for all I have learned from you, and for some inexplicable reason, listening to my advice.

I never realized that anything I was saying was helpful until I read this incredibly touching post from Amy Steinbauer. Thank you, Amy, for letting me know that I'm making a tiny difference. I'm looking forward to great things from you!

I hope this post inspires you to mentor someone in your profession. Whether officially and through an association, or by simply having lunch with someone new to the field, listening to their experiences and trying to answer their questions.

To all those children's and young adult librarians I have mentored, I look forward to the day when I get to watch your Newbery, Caldecott or Printz committees reveal their choices. I'll be cheering loudest!

Caldecott-versary

Today is the one year anniversary of the day the 2015 Caldecott committee announced our winner and honors.

Things I have learned in the last year:

-You can walk into a windowless hotel room with fourteen acquaintances and walk out two days later with fourteen lifelong friends.

-The only people who truly understand what you went through are the ones who were in that room with you.

-Forever (which is the length of time that you will be keeping your mouth closed about what happened during the deliberations) is a really long time.

-Getting to be on a phone call where you hear someone's life change is an incredible experience.

-It is challenging to go from one of the most intense experiences of your life and a crazy press conference full of celebration to driving a carpool the next day.

-Reading a New York Times article announcing the winner is enough to make you cry because you were in the room where it happened.

-You can't say if you voted for the winning book, but every single person will ask you if did.

-If anyone finds out you were on the 2015 Caldecott committee, they will inevitably ask to see your tattoo (which you didn't get).

-You should never read the comments section of anything that discusses your winners.

-The generosity, graciousness and appreciation of the winners will overwhelm and humble you.

-Fifteen minutes during lunch is not enough time to tell a group of fifth graders about the experience of being on the committee. 

-Having the ability to give away hundreds of books to a school that needs them is a wonderful feeling.

-Sitting in the front row at the banquet, seeing your name on the big screen and hearing your committee being thanked by the medal winner standing at the podium is a goose-bumpy and teary experience.

-Everyone in the children's book world is best friends with Dan Santat and they are all thrilled that he won the Caldecott Medal. (Seriously. Is there anyone who has only a casual acquaintance with Dan? How many best friends does Dan have?)

-The first Midwinter after you've been on the committee is hard. You know everything the committee is doing, and what time they are doing it, but you're not doing it too.

-If there are people left in the world who don't know you were on the Caldecott committee, your friends will make sure they find out.

-Being able to simply read and appreciate a beautiful picture book and not have to read it over and over and analyze it and tie yourself into knots writing a nomination for it is a nice thing.

-As overwhelming as it is to see your porch covered in boxes of submissions, you miss them when they stop coming.

-Reading the winning books to your own children is one of the most special feelings in the world.

-There is nothing like the thrill of seeing a Caldecott Medal on the cover of a book, and knowing exactly how it got there. It never gets old.

-Figuring out how to be vague in a blog post like this one is hard work.

Hamilton

I hesitated in writing this- because what is there to say about a show that is already a hit? What is there that has not been said? I've tried to stay away, as much as possible, from all the hyperbole. I didn't listen to the cast album. I only read one review of the off-Broadway production. I wanted to find out about it for myself.

My favorite class in college, which I took my first semester because I couldn't wait any longer, was a history of American Musical Theater. We talked about landmark shows such as Showboat, Oklahoma, West Side Story and Company. If I was taking that class now (or better yet, teaching it), I would add Hamilton to that list of game changers. 

Why? It's not enough that it's a hit. 

It's easier to like a show when the lines at the box office go down the street and the tickets take a year to get... just as it is easier to like a book that already has a Caldecott or Newbery Medal on the front. Someone else has already told us that this is something extraordinary. The stamp of approval has already been given. 

What Hamilton has done is to bring the rhythm of popular music back to the theater. The kind of music that is playing in clubs and on the radio is now playing on Broadway. How wonderfully refreshing. Broadway, which in recent years has been criticized as elitist and apart from popular culture, is now being brought back into it.

But, Hamilton is not all hip-hop or rap. It combines so many musical styles, often within the same song, that it is mesmerizing. It would probably be a shorter list to say which musical traditions are not in Hamilton, rather than the ones that are. And the lyrics are brilliant, incredibly tight, interwoven and multi-layered. And Hamilton is not a regular book musical, where there's a song and then a scene, and back and forth. It's an opera. There are only a few lines that are spoken without a beat or rhythm behind them. Call it a hip-hop opera if you like, but an opera it is nonetheless.

If Hamilton reminds me of anything, it's of another landmark show that is currently playing in the Broadway theater next door. Les Miserables. Also an opera. Also about a revolution, the difference between the rich and the poor, and breaking into the ruling class. Also based on a very, very long book. (Hamilton is based on an 800 page biography.) Also with a turntable- although Hamilton has a double one. And there are echoes of the melodies of Les Miserables sprinkled throughout Hamilton. Plus, if The Story of Tonight doesn't thematically make you think of Red and Black, then I don't know what does.

The difference between the two shows is that when I listen to Les Miserables, I always feel as if I’m hearing the same song over and over. It seems as though there is a melody that has been written to be used between major numbers, and the words change but the tune stays the same. 

Hamilton isn't like that. There are 17 songs in each act (which is unusual, because the second act is typically shorter) and each of these 34 songs are distinct, unique and complex. There are musical patterns and phrases that are repeated, but not whole songs and melodies. Compare that to when I saw Andrew Lloyd Webber's show Whistle Down the Wind during an out of town tryout. All but one song in the second act was a reprisal of a song in the first act. 

The Hamilton subject matter is incredibly intriguing as well. Here's a musical told from the point of view of an often-overlooked Founding Father. Having been fascinated with Alexander Hamilton since ninth grade American History, I was happy to see him finally get his due. But while telling the story of someone who has been marginalized, it also has a go at people such as Thomas Jefferson who are typically lionized. What an interesting change of pace. There is one historical question that the musical doesn't address, however- was Hamilton eligible to be President since he was born outside of the United States?  

The references are so far reaching and varied as to be astonishing. There's not a lot of people who can quote the Lovin' Spoonful and then the Declaration of Independence a few sentences later, as seen in the song "The Schuyler Sisters." And as it takes Broadway a little further, it also refers back to it. Gilbert and Sullivan's The Pirates of Penzance is directly quoted, as is Rodgers and Hammerstein's South Pacific. Also, Shakespeare, the Bible, Socrates, fairytales, and nursery rhymes. It's a brilliant homage to what has come before. 

I can't quite remember when I first heard the name Lin-Manuel Miranda. I feel like I've known about him for a long time. Obviously, through In the Heights and the publicity and Tonys for that. But the thing that made an impression is this video from his actual wedding which was circulating around on social media. 

This knocked me back. Here was a talented Broadway actor who had gone to the trouble of recreating one of Broadway's most famous songs, and a rather complicated one at that, at his own wedding reception. Weddings are stressful events, with lots of built-in craziness. He had clearly gone to a lot of effort while the events of the wedding were swirling around him, to find time to rehearse, with his future father-in-law, his father, with the bridesmaids and groomsmen. And managed to keep it all from the bride. And it came off brilliantly. And paid homage to Broadway. 

Who is this guy?

Then I watched the 2011 Tony Awards with the fantastic Neil Patrick Harris. What struck me the most was the closing rap at the end, which summed up all the events that had just occurred during the show. The performance by Neil Patrick Harris was incredibly impressive, but I was amazed by the writing, which had great rhyming, solid rhythm, funny jokes and heartfelt thoughts about Broadway tying it all together. And it had clearly been done on the spot. I later read that Lin-Manuel Miranda had been the one in the basement during the Tonys writing the closing number. 

Who is this guy??

A musical has three parts that have to be written: the music, the lyrics and the book. The division of labor varies depending on the creators. For Rodgers and Hammerstein musicals, for example; Richard Rodgers wrote the music and Oscar Hammerstein wrote the lyrics and the book. Stephen Sondheim writes the music and the lyrics for his shows (with the exception of his first two), and has collaborated with several different book writers during his career. Usually, there is then another composer, called an arranger, who adapts the music for different instruments in the orchestra. There are only a handful of all the creators of musical theater who have been able to write the book, music and lyrics all themselves, and have produced a hit musical in the process. Meredith Wilson (The Music Man) is one. Jonathan Larson (Rent) is another.

One of the many things that made West Side Story a landmark musical is that it required the chorus to sing, dance and act. Before then, there were two different choruses: the singing chorus and the dancing chorus. But now, performers have to be triple threats, that is they have to master three separate disciplines.

For Hamilton, Lin-Manuel Miranda has written the book. And the lyrics. And the music. And collaborated on arranging the music. Plus, he's the lead in the show. He acts. He sings. He dances. He's a septuple threat. SEVEN disciplines. I can't think of anyone in the history of musical theater who has done this before. Not even him- for In the Heights he didn't write the book or work on the arranging. 

Who is this guy?? And why is he writing like he's running out of time?

Something else impressed me about him. I've been to a lot of Broadway shows and seen a lot of stars. I've seen them race out of the theater after the show into waiting cars with police protection. Or sign a few programs of the people standing at the front and then call it a night. Not this guy. Lin-Manuel Miranda went the length of the entire line of people waiting to see him, in freezing weather, shaking hands, having conversations, and taking pictures with every single person including me and my husband. My camera jammed at exactly the wrong minute, he waited for us to fix it while everyone else was clamoring to talk to him and then took the picture himself. I imagine that he must go through the line after every show. What a mensch. 

WHO IS THIS GUY??? 

Whoever he is, he's extraordinary. There's no doubt.

As amazing as Lin-Manuel Miranda is, and it is obvious that the MacArthur Foundation made an excellent choice, this is not a one man show. The ensemble work is fantastic, with every actor and actress making memorable performances. The off-stage talent is crucial, and the collaboration of the director, designers, musical director, and choreographer comes together to make the whole show a success. A perfect example of this are King George's songs. If you only heard the cast album, you would think the songs were funny, catchy and enjoyable. To understand how truly hysterical they are, you would have to see Jonathan Groff's deadpan performance, Paul Tazewell's elaborate costume, Howell Brinkley's lights that come in at the right moment and Thomas Kail's great direction.

Even the marketing and publicity in Hamilton is notable. The primary logo is black- which means our eye is drawn to a lack of color. The color is completely contained in the gold background. Hamilton stands on the top of an iconic star from the American flag, which is missing its fifth point. Hamilton's body creates not only the star's final point, but also the letter A, his first initial. The images of Hamilton are everywhere. Not just on the marquee like most shows, but on the walls of the theater and the stage door. All over Penn Station. Inescapable, convincing us that Hamilton is the show to see. 

If I could say anything to the people involved with Hamilton, or to someone who has won a Newbery or Caldecott Medal or otherwise achieved great success, it would be this. Try, as hard as you can, not to be encumbered by past success. Success can be just as paralyzing as failure. They don't all have to be life-changing hits. Just keep doing work that you're proud of. That's all anyone can ask. 

I hope you get a chance to see it. Do not throw away your shot.