I risked making myself unpopular yesterday afternoon, and sacked the librarians. Out of the four children who have been wearing 'librarian' badges since September, only one shows any enjoyment of the job. The others have to be constantly reminded to tidy shelves and put books in order, and they do it very halfheartedly (one, I suspect, would rather be playing football at break times, but doesn't want to lose face by saying so). As I'd had a three-o'-clock-in-the-morning-idea about encouraging reading and library-use, I decided to start afresh with some more enthusiastic staff.
I want to start a library newsletter, to which all juniors can send book reviews and short stories. I want to include author profiles, information about new books in the library and other such things. I used this as an excuse to get new librarians. It wasn't fair, I explained, to dump all this extra work and research and giving-up-break-times on those who had only signed on to tidy book shelves. So I told the class that I was starting again. I'm doing it all properly, with the approval of the class teacher, and am making the children who are interested apply in writing by next Friday. I will then pick four who give me the best reasons and show a spark of enthusiasm for reading. I've had three letters already, written in their free time.
One writer couldn't be bothered to find out the correct spelling of my name, just writing, 'sorry, I know this is spelt wrong.' So find out how to spell it?? That letter's gone on the rejection pile already. I don't want newsletters that are littered with spelling mistakes simply because someone can't be bothered to be right. Another letter is from one of the former librarians, saying that she knows she wasn't doing a very good job, but promises to do better if I choose her. No, sorry, she's ignored constant nagging from me to tidy shelves, so that's another one binned. Another former librarian just sat there with a wobbly lip while I explained my ideas. They kept shooting tearful glances at Ms Fab, who pointedly ignored them. Did they write me a letter, or come to speak to me? No. I'm expecting a complaint from Mum on Monday. One letter is promising. It's from a girl who's always reading, and has said she thinks working on a newsletter would help improve her writing. Several others are writing their letters at home, although I have pointed out that I want something written by them, not that parents have dictated.
I want to start a library newsletter, to which all juniors can send book reviews and short stories. I want to include author profiles, information about new books in the library and other such things. I used this as an excuse to get new librarians. It wasn't fair, I explained, to dump all this extra work and research and giving-up-break-times on those who had only signed on to tidy book shelves. So I told the class that I was starting again. I'm doing it all properly, with the approval of the class teacher, and am making the children who are interested apply in writing by next Friday. I will then pick four who give me the best reasons and show a spark of enthusiasm for reading. I've had three letters already, written in their free time.
One writer couldn't be bothered to find out the correct spelling of my name, just writing, 'sorry, I know this is spelt wrong.' So find out how to spell it?? That letter's gone on the rejection pile already. I don't want newsletters that are littered with spelling mistakes simply because someone can't be bothered to be right. Another letter is from one of the former librarians, saying that she knows she wasn't doing a very good job, but promises to do better if I choose her. No, sorry, she's ignored constant nagging from me to tidy shelves, so that's another one binned. Another former librarian just sat there with a wobbly lip while I explained my ideas. They kept shooting tearful glances at Ms Fab, who pointedly ignored them. Did they write me a letter, or come to speak to me? No. I'm expecting a complaint from Mum on Monday. One letter is promising. It's from a girl who's always reading, and has said she thinks working on a newsletter would help improve her writing. Several others are writing their letters at home, although I have pointed out that I want something written by them, not that parents have dictated.
Ms Fab and I have the idea that, if this library newsletter is a success with the children, we'd like to start a school newspaper. I'm now off to spend a few hours on a prototype newsletter that I can show to the children in a this-is-what-I-mean kind of way. And I suppose I really ought to let the Boss Lady know what I'm up to...
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