Life lessons of a librarian

The glorification of working at a library sure does make it seem like it's the best job on earth.

Before I landed my first job at a library, I thought to myself .. this is it. No more long hours. No more sore feet. No more emotional and mental abuse. It's smooth sailing from this point on.

I mean, I get a swively chair. I get my own desk. I can go to the bathroom when I need to. There's a Keurig for every department! I romanticized the bare essentials like being able to take a break when I felt like taking one. This is a leg up from retail right? Right. But not far off.

Those "privileges" I put on a pedestal quickly diminished the longer I worked at the library. Those miniscule things I looked forward to were not enough anymore.

Working at a library is more than clickity clacketing on your keyboard, sitting in your nice little chair sipping on your comfortable cup of coffee while occasionally searching books up for people. It's more than organizing books and pushing the spines out so they all align.

It's emotionally demanding. It's getting your boundaries pushed to the brink day in and day out. It's nerves building the moment you hear people approaching your desk, just crossing your fingers it won't be someone going through a bad day.

I've never experienced more disrespect than when I started working at a library. It's constant belittlement from people who think you're there to fulfill their every demand. It's the snapping of fingers when someone wants you to come over and help them. The come-here-now's and isn't that your job? remarks that crawl under your skin and live there with every time you hear them.

And then you help them, right? You solve whatever it was they were having problems with. Yay! It isn't something you've ever had experience dealing with, you're not even the department that takes care of those issues but you gave it your best shot anyway. And all you get in return is "about time you get it."

Now, isn't that a bitch.

Doesn't that just sting. Doesn't that just make you feel so used, so under appreciated. It's like, at this point why even bother. Why not just give blanks stares and cold shoulders to every person that encounters you?

Why not be the bitch before someone can be one to you?

I used to think to myself, why are librarians so mean? They have the best job, the easiest job, and yet they sit there with the ugliest scowl and speak with such a bitterness. Now I know.

But the difference between librarians like that and me, is that they let the people get the best out of them. There's a lot of bad in this world. You can't let all of the bad swallow you up and drag you along with it.

I tried it. I was monotone, giving short answers and not even a whisper of a smile appearing on my face throughout the entire work day. By the time I got home, I felt even worse.

You meet so many different people at the library. Of all walks of life. And if there's one thing that keeps me up at night is being unnecessarily nasty to people who don't deserve it.

There was this woman, about my mothers age who needed help with printing and faxing information. But there was a lot more to it. I had to help her get into her email, edit the documents, figure out the fax number and then proceed with the fax. All the while I was being cold, acting closed off and I even caught myself rolling my eyes while assisting her.

At the end of it all, she gave me the warmest smile and called me an angel for getting all of her work sent successfully. Apparently she had gone to another library before and they refused to assist her throughout the entire process because it was too hands on. She explained to me how lost she felt, how unwelcome she felt. It's like going to a safe house, and then having them slam the door in your face.

To top it off, she returned that same day before my shift ended and gifted me a goodie bag full of snacks. As she handed it to me she gave me a comforting smile and said "Thank you again for all of your help, I hope what I got you can sweeten up your day." The way she said it was so genuine, it was like a hug.

The guilt of my actions were heavily evident that night. It quite literally kept me awake. And that's the moment I told myself I cant let people turn me as bitter as they are themselves. It isn't fair to the people I encounter or to myself. It's not who I am.

Being that way just ended up hurting me in the end. It stung to know that I could have been just like the last librarian who helped her, mean. And what stung even more was her being able to tell but still finding it in her heart to come back and uplift me.

Being constantly disrespected is heartbreaking, it weighs your heart down with every word. But turning yourself into someone unrecognizable is even more hurtful.