Incidents in the Library: What to Do?

I was going to continue on today with my in-depth reading notes from The Evolution of God, but something happened to me a few hours ago that is filling my mind with thoughts and questions. I want to hear from both librarians and non-librarians on how you think these situations should be handled while also considering, "Is there a right answer?"

Here's what happened: I've been volunteering twice a week for the past four weeks for an enhanced summer reading library program. This public library branch is in a low-income neighborhood, and the kids that use the library—ranging from Kindergarten to late high school—spend all day there, everyday. They're latchkey kids to the extreme; every day of their summer is spent in the "homework room" where there are computers, board games, craft projects, movies, etc. At any given time, there can be over 30 kids in this room with maybe one or two adults in there with them.

Usually, in my experience, they behave very well. They tend to self-regulate and have a good rapport with the children's librarian. Today, though, two of the older boys (aged 13 or 14) got in a heated argument and started threatening to fight. It never escalated too far (a couple shoves back and forth), and another boy broke between them, laughing because they were literally throwing insults about each other's mother. Everyone thought the confrontation had dissipated and returned to what they were doing. One kid, though, must've wanted the proverbial last hit and chucked his phone at the other kid, only he missed and it hit me straight in the head.

Me. A volunteer, in the wrong place at the wrong time, leaving my post with a bleeding head and a black eye.

The result of this incident: This phone-thrower and accomplice, whose names are known and are regular patrons, are banned from the library for a year (though they probably don't know it yet because they bolted). I was questioned/treated by paramedics, declining a hospital visit, and questioned by the police, where I also declined to press charges against a 13-year-old kid who wrongly, but accidentally, hit me in the head with an iPhone.

The questions an incident such as this raises are numerous, and the issues and problems are far from easy to solve. One question, the more minor one, is: What responsibility does the library have to its volunteers in terms of workplace safety? Any? [For me, I signed a waiver agreeing to the following language: "I acknowledge and agree that as consideration for the Library allowing me to serve as a volunteer I waive any rights or claims that I may have against the Library, its employees and volunteers and the [redacted], and release the Library, its employees and volunteers and the [redacted] from any potential liability arising during my volunteer activities." Does this cover such a situation? Should it?]

The more important question, though, is: What power do we have as librarians to handle non-library issues with or about our patrons? The "latchkey kid" issue is a huge one for many public libraries, and many have policies in place that establish zero liability for the library regarding unsupervised children; the library does not provide full- or part-time childcare. Of course, kids still come to the library without their parents, because it's probably safer than other options. Without the level of responsibility that's inherent in schools, how can a public library provide a level of structure, discipline, and consequence that prevents an incident like today along with other behavioral problems?

This library system's behavioral policy states a 1- to 5-year ban for an incident of assault, but there is no specific policy regarding unsupervised children. The Brooklyn Public Library will attempt to contact a parent or guardian in the case of incident (or other city agencies of the parent/guardian is unreachable) but there is nothing else in regards to specific consequence. Same goes for the Chicago Public Library; children may be asked to leave, but no more severe consequences are listed.

In the recent classes I've been taking for my teaching license on classroom management, I've learned how important it is to establish a strict set of rules, procedures, expectations, and consequences to handle behavior. The public library is not a classroom, but does that mean, for its young patrons and especially its latchkey kids, it should be run without these things? After all, the library isn't really responsible for any of them. Is a behavior plan necessary? Realistic? What do you think?

The New Reading Rainbow: For Progress or For Profit?

Yesterday I learned of a new Kickstarter project to bring back Reading Rainbow, that beloved PBS show forever in the hearts of kids from the 80s and 90s. Bring back Reading Rainbow?? The theme song hasn't left my head since 1992! What amazing things this Internet can do!

My initial reaction was, and I quote myself:

TAKE IT. TAKE ALL OF MY MONEY. TAKE ALL OF MY MONEY AND FIX THE WORLD WITH BOOKS.

Adapting this amazing message, outdated by 20th-century technology, for the 21st-century world? This sounds like brilliance. Take a look at the Kickstarter project video and see for yourself:


The mission of the new Reading Rainbow, as outlined in the above video, is three-fold:

• Develop a web-enabled Reading Rainbow for the home
• Create a classroom version with the tools our teachers need
• Subsidize the cost so that the schools most in need can use Reading Rainbow FOR FREE

Initially, I hopped right on board and decided to download the existing Reading Rainbow iPad app onto my mom's iPad for my 3-year old nephew to browse to browse for myself. And while the platform is engaging and the books plentiful, my enthusiasm suddenly dropped with the presence of one very exclusive word...

SUBSCRIPTION.

And I discovered that the Reading Rainbow app is actually highly restricted unless you pay $9.99 a month. Suddenly, LeVar's claim that a web-enabled Reading Rainbow will expand access because "not everyone can afford a tablet" sounds almost fraudulent. Who, of that target audience you're addressing in your promotional video, the ones that "can't afford a tablet," can then justify a $10-a-month service fee?

Based on the goals listed above, it seems this cost will still exist on a web-version; but clever marketing, counting on nostalgic sentiment and employing selective omission, hopes you overlook this very basic fact: Reading Rainbow is no longer a free universal resource as it was during its days on public television; it's a for-profit enterprise. Through Kickstarter, we're funding the creation of material that will be sold for profit, somewhat under the guise this material will help every child everywhere, NO MATTER THEIR SOCIOECONOMIC STATUS. And when the aid to "schools most in need" covers only about 1,500 classrooms (as listed in the project description), the universality seems to come up short.

I support the enthusiasm for stories, books, and independent exploration Reading Rainbow has always shared to encourage kids to find interest in reading. However, I feel a bit conflicted by the new Reading Rainbow's tagline of "Every Child...Everywhere." Perhaps if the subscription model was directed at institutions, specifically, instead of individuals, it would feel more genuine—schools or libraries could then provide this resource to their students and users for free, just as is the case with hundreds of other for-profit database resources. Or perhaps it'd seem more forthright if the video and accompanying information clearly stated that all these resources aren't available without paying a subscription fee. Instead, I feel like the intent is admirable, but the access is still limited to the haves rather than have-nots who need it the most.

What do you think about the NEW Reading Rainbow? Bridging the technology and literacy gaps is one of the biggest challenges facing schools and libraries. Can Reading Rainbow help?